When he finished the porridge, she carried the bowl back to the kitchen. After tidying up, she returned to find that he still hadn't left. Lowering her head to avoid acknowledging his presence, she walked straight toward her bedroom as if he didn't exist.
"Cynthia—"
His voice stopped her abruptly. She froze in place, and before she could react, his tall frame enveloped her from behind. His strong arms wrapped tightly around her, his body exuding an intense warmth that surrounded her like a tide.
He rested his chin on her slender shoulder, his voice low and tinged with rare vulnerability.
"Don't push me away, please?"
There was an unfamiliar note of pleading in his tone, along with a trace of fragility.
