"Mommy, have some milk."
The familiar voice of the little girl acted as a compass for him.
The woman wore a camel-colored trench coat, slender and tall, she bent down to pick up the chubby little girl.
Spencer Sullivan was completely stunned, his feet seemed to be held by a pair of hands, unable to move forward, not daring to move forward.
All of these scenes had appeared in his dreams before.
The woman picked up the child and walked forward. Spencer Sullivan rushed up to her, "Celine."
Yvonne Young heard the man's voice before she could react. Her waist was held from behind, the familiar sweet scent mixed with a faint smell of smoke caused her breath to catch.
Over two years, she had imagined countless scenarios of meeting Spencer Sullivan again, but none of them were like this.
"Celine, Celine..."
Spencer Sullivan's hands were firmly wrapped around Yvonne Young's waist, secure and solid, unlike in his dreams where he would always come up empty.
"Ella Quinn."
