Julian returned to Grandview Manorte <b>at </b>night. As his car rolled to a stop, he looked up at the second–floor master bedroom.
The lights were already out.
He stared into the darkness for a moment, then unfastened his seatbelt and stepped out <b>of </b>the car.
<b>ir</b><b>, </b>who was on night duty, came forward, looking somewhat surprised. “Mr. Ziegler, <b>you’re </b>back? Mrs. Ziegler just went to bed. Would you like ate–night snack<b>?</b>”
Julian answered indifferently, “A bowl of instant noodles will do.”
ir was pleased for Willow that Julian had chosen <b>to </b>return home. Rubbing her hands together, she headed for the kitchen.
Julian shrugged off his coat and tossed it over the back of the couch. While waiting for his meal, he picked up his phone to handle a few work emails. But before long, he found himself scrolling through his photo gallery instead.
ir returned with the noodles. She stole a nce at the screen and said with a smile, “Mrs. Ziegler looks <b>even </b>more beautiful than before<b>.</b>”
Julian smiled faintly. “Does she?”
ir was just about to sing Willow’s praises when Julian’s phone rang. Seeing Catherine’s name on the screen, he frowned and answered. “I told you. Don’t call me for no <b>reason</b>.<b>” </b>
Catherine acted as <b>if </b>she hadn’t heard him. “You’re afraid of upsetting her, aren’t you?”
Julian hung up without a word.
Suddenly, he lost his appetite. Exhaustion seeped through his body.
Leaning back on the couch, he tilted his face upward and shielded his eyes from the harsh overhead light with one hand.
How many years had it been? Just how long had he endured?
Even he couldn’t count anymore. All he knew was that he was tired. And on a night like this, with Willow back under the same roof, maybe <b>he </b>should just grow old with her. Maybe <b>he </b>should spend the rest of his life with her after all.
The night stretched on<b>, </b>deep and quiet<b>. </b>
Julian ascended the <b>stairs</b><b>. </b>
The long corridor was still, yet he swore he could hear the <b>soft </b>rhythm of Willow’s breathing<b>. </b>
He pushed open the bedroom door. Inside, the warmth wrapped around him like a silent embrace.
Willowy on her side, <b>fast </b>asleep.
She had bathed and changed into <b>a </b>white robe. Her entire being looked fresh and serene under the dim glow of <b>the </b>bedsidemp.
Her <b>hair </b><b>cascaded </b><b>over </b>the pristine <b>pillow</b><b>, </b>partially veiling her delicate face. The curve of her <b>nose </b>and the <b>soft </b>outline of her <b>lips </b><b>were </b>like a <b>masterpiece </b>crafted <b>by </b>the finest artist<b>. </b>
She <b>carne </b>back. She <b>was </b>lying in his bed right now.
<b>Julian’s </b>Adam’s apple bobbed. He unfastened the <b>buttons </b>of his shirt, letting his clothes fall <b>to </b>the floor. <b>Yet </b>instead <b>of </b>iming <b>Willow</b><b>, </b>he walked straight into the <b>bathroom </b>and turned on <b>the </b>cold water.
The next <b>morning</b><b>, </b>Willow woke up in his arms.
Even after a full night’s <b>sleep</b><b>, </b>Julian <b>still </b>looked <b>effortlessly </b>handsome<b>. </b>
His hair fell slightly <b>over </b>his forehead<b>, </b>softening his <b>usual </b>sharpness and making him <b>look </b><b>years </b>younger<b>. </b>He <b>wore </b><b>a </b>ck <b>robe</b><b>. </b>The thin fabric clung <b>to </b>his body, hinting at the <b>strength </b><b>beneath</b>.
Willow <b>wasn’t </b>used <b>to </b><b>seeing </b>him like that<b>. </b>
She <b>carefully </b><b>shifted</b>, attempting <b>to </b><b>slip </b>out of bed. But the moment her toes brushed <b>against </b>her slippers, Julian pulled <b>her </b>back and locked her firmly <b>in </b>his embrace<b>. </b>Her cheek pressed <b>against </b>his chest, where she could hear the steady thump <b>of </b>his heartbeat<b>. </b>
<b>It </b><b>was </b>winter<b>, </b>and his arms were undeniably warm.
But Willow <b>didn’t </b><b>forget</b><b>. </b><b>No </b>matter how perfect he seemed<b>, </b>Julian was still a scumbag. Buried in his arms, she murmured<b>, </b><b>“</b><b>I </b><b>have to </b><b>get </b>up<b>.</b>”
Julian lowered his <b>gaze</b><b>, </b>his eyes <b>deep </b>and unreadable.
The next second, he pinned her beneath him. Their fingers entwined as he kissed her <b>with </b>a fervor that seemed endless, as if <b>the </b>world itself could <b>fade </b>away.
<b>+25 </b><b>Bonus </b>
That <b>was </b>until ir knocked on the door. <b>“</b>The Ziegler <b>residence </b>just called. Mr. Ziegler Senior wants you two to go back for dinner tonight. He said there’s no refusing this time.”
Juliany over Willow. The muscles in his back were taut, his body like a bowstring drawn tight. Without shifting his position<b>, </b>he responded tly, “Got it.”
<b>ir </b><b>left </b>after receiving his response.
Silence filled the bedroom, broken only by <b>the </b>sound <b>of </b>their own heartbeats, Willow, finding their posture unbearable, pushed at him. “Get up. I have to go to <b>the </b>hospitalter.<b>” </b>
Julian didn’t press further. But as he let her go, he leaned close to her ear and asked, “It’s been three months. Don’t you want a taste <b>of </b>me?”
“Not at all.”
Willow quickly pulled her robe together and strode into the dressing <b>room</b><b>, </b>almost <b>as </b><b>if </b>she were escaping.
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