Chapter 179
Chapter 179
Returning to the villa felt like stepping into another lifetime.
Sullivan parked the car at the front of the villa, gracefully handed Megan her coat, and said with a deep look, “The snow’s not too heavy. Let’s walk together when you get out.”
Megan was concerned about Shirley, “Will it be too cold?”
Sullivan glanced back at the dog, then slowly said to Megan, “I’ll hold it close. As long as you’re not jealous.”
Megan put on her coat, opened the car door, and retorted, “As if I would be!”
Sullivan chuckled softly and reached out to pick up Shirley, petting its head.
He whispered, “Looks like Mommy’s upset!”
Shirley ba
Shirley barked twice in response.
Sullivan, with his coat on and carrying the dog, closed the car door and caught up to Megan in a few quick steps.
He walked beside her, with Shirley comfortably nestled in his arms.
The snow fell gently around them.
After a moment, Megan couldn’t resist reaching out to gently pat Shirley’s head. Ccontent © exclusive by Nô/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.
As she withdrew her hand, Sullivan caught it.
His warm palm easily enveloped hers; the slight touch of dry and moist fingertips carried a hint of flirtation. And then he placed her hand in his coat pocket while lightly wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her close.
“Sullivan!” Megan’s voice was husky, calling his name, wanting him to let go.
Sullivan looked down at her. He remained silent, but his eyes in the twilight held an indescribable
tenderness…
With the cold and the snow, the housekeeper had thoughtfully prepared a fondue pot, mentioning how the mushrooms were particularly fresh and encouraged Megan to try more.
Megan found it delicious.
The housekeeper smiled, “As long as madam enjoys it! I’ll have some fresh ones sent over later.” Saying this, she wiped her hands on her apron and went back to the kitchen.
The villa was warm; Sullivan had taken off his coat, remaining in a crisp white shirt and dark grey trousers. He opened a bottle of red wine. A few bites of the fondue and a couple of glasses of wine later, his face had a healthy flush, looking even more charming.
He ate sparingly, focusing instead on serving Megan, who softly protested she couldn’t eat that much.
Sullivan held his wine glass; lightly swirling it.
His gaze on her was deep, playful, yet assertive.
Megan hadn’t planned on staying overnight, but then she thought, she and Sullivan were only separated.
10:26
Acting coy like a teenage girl in love seemed pretentious, so she didn’t mention leaving.
As the night progressed, the snow grew heavier.
In the east bedroom, the heating was turned up high, warm as spring.
Megan, after her bath, sat in front of the vanity, applying moisturizer. Halfway through, she impulsively opened a small drawer. Her half–burnt diary had been repaired, lying quietly inside.
If not for the half–empty pages, she might have thought nothing had ever happened, that the arguments and sadness were just illusions… But the blank pages reminded her that those were all real.
[I won’t let go; just not ready yet!]
[Sullivan, it’s over!]
[Sullivan, I’m tired. I can’t deal with you anymore.]
Memories of hurt and blame surged like a tide, moistening Megan’s eyes.
“What are you thinking about?”
Strong arms wrapped around her waist, the heat from Sullivan’s shower enveloping her through the thin robe, pressing against her lower back with a readiness that made Megan’s legs weak.
Her voice was fragile, “Nothing!”
She placed the diary back in the drawer and closed it.
Sullivan’s face was close to hers; looking together into the mirror, he murmured, “Nothing? Then why is your face so red?”
Megan dared not look into the mirror.
Sullivan, fresh from the shower and wearing only a loosely tied robe, was a sight of temptation.
Sullivan then asked, “When shall we take those wedding photos?”
Getting married to Sullivan and taking a dreamy set of wedding photos had once been Megan’s youthful fantasy. But now, she lacked that eagerness, responding lightly. “There’s no need!”
Sullivan scooped her up in his arms and placed her at the end of the bed.