This was a question that Zaiden Santos just couldn't understand, why she wouldn't accept his gift.
Zaiden Santos was deeply hurt; he held Ann Nolan, tossing and turning, unable to sleep.
How could she not want his gift?
How could she?
Zaiden Santos was in turmoil, his already exhausted heart suddenly filled with endless waves, like a tangled ball of yarn without a visible end.
Ann Nolan, on the other hand, was exhausted, letting him hold her without moving.
Her hair spilled over her shoulders, black and silky, soft and delicate.
Zaiden Santos, smelling the scent of her hair, could not fall asleep.
He was still struggling with the question, why she wouldn't accept his gift.
Didn't she like the gift? But she didn't even glance at it.
The sound of rain outside was continuous and lingering, especially clear in the bedroom, droplet by droplet tapping against the window.
The spring night was quiet, the vast sky desolate.
This struggle went on all night.
