Ryan's Precious Treasure
"Ryan! Oh my God! What are you doing in my beloved kitchen?!" Nayla Dawson's voice echoed loudly, shaking the entire three-story bungalow.
Ryan Carter , who was standing in front of the stove, merely glanced at her before replying sarcastically, "Teaching your fish how to do a backflip."
It was obvious he was cooking. Yet, the girl still questioned him as if she couldn’t believe what was happening right before her eyes.
Ryan, a man who was often infuriating but, in his own way, caring.
"Are you going to cry?" His voice was soft, but his tone remained as flat as ever.
Ryan closed the distance between them, letting their shoulders touch. He gently pulled Nayla’s head towards him, allowing her to rest on his strong shoulder. Taking a slow breath, he whispered, "Go ahead, cry."
His thumb wouldn't wipe away the tears rolling down her cheeks. To Ryan, every drop was too precious. And to him, they held more value if they fell onto his shoulder. At the very least, he could keep those memories with Nayla.
Nayla wasn’t just someone in his life—she was his entire world. The one person he couldn’t bear to lose.
"You think you're her choice? Nah, bro. You made a big mistake. Over my dead body if you want to get her." Ryan’s voice trembled slightly, but it was still steady, carrying an unmistakable threat.
"Ryan! Don’t you regret being friends with me? Don’t you feel like I’m just a burden to you?" Nayla’s voice wavered slightly, but her amber eyes still bravely met Ryan’s stormy grey gaze.
Ryan fell silent for a moment before answering, "Yes, I regret it."
Nayla froze.
"Because you're my friend." Ryan exhaled slowly before continuing, "You should have been my wife instead. Wouldn’t that be better? Friend to lover, just like in all the novels you read. Sweet, right?"