Jonathan leaned his head back, his eyes lifting toward her as she knelt behind him, still running the towel through his hair. "Why are you asking me that now?"


    His gaze was sharp and questioning, studying her face.


    Anneliese met his glistening eyes, still damp from his shower. Her fingers tightened slightly around the towel.


    Last night, after hearing what Nishay said, she had considered digging into the truth about that fire on her own.


    But when she''d been terrified and cornered, and realized the man chasing her had been him, the feeling of safety that washed over her made her understand something deep down.


    She trusted him. She truly believed Jonathan could never have been behind that fire. His integrity, his strength, his honesty-she believed in them all.


    He wasn''t someone who''d ever run from what he''d done. Even the younger version of him wouldn''t have.


    Because she trusted him that much, when Nishay asked what she''d do if it really had been him, she had said firmly that she could never stay with him if it were true.


    But that night, only Jonathan and his parents had been in that mansion.


    Now she couldn''t stop wondering. Compared to them, how much did she really matter to him? And if the truth ever came out, what would he choose to do?


    If the fire really had been caused by his parents, would he actually stand by her side and fight for what was right?


    Even if he helped her and Nishay get justice, wouldn''t that just create new wounds between them? What kind of future could they possibly have after that?


    Every bit of her fear and heartache came down to one truth-she was terrified of losing him.


    "What''s wrong?"


    Before she could answer, Jonathan slipped an arm around her waist and lifted her onto hisp.


    He brushed his thumb over the tip of her reddened nose.


    She had been crying hard earlier, and now her tear-streaked face made her look so soft and vulnerable that it almost broke him.


    He sighed. "Baby, maybe we should have a son one day."


    "Huh?"


    Anneliese blinked. She was still reeling from how easily he had just pulled her into his arms.


    She''d been about to bring up what Nishay suspected, and then he came out of nowhere with that line.


    She stared at him, confused, her eyes still puffy and wet.


    She looked so sweet and fragile that he didn''t even know how to love her gently enough.


    Jonathan leaned in and kissed the corner of her damp eye. "One little princess like you is already a full-time job."


    Another one and he''d be finished.


    He figured he might as well raise her like his own spoiled daughter and have a son to help him keep her safe.


    Anneliese hit his chest twice in protest. "So you''re saying I cry too much?"


    Her cheeks puffed up, like she was silently daring him to agree.


    Jonathanughed quietly and


    pressed his forehead against hers "Baby, it''s not that you just look too d*m pretty when you cry. Makes me want to kiss you and..."


    He shifted slightly, and she felt herself sink lower in hisp. The heat of his reaction pressed against her, undeniable.


    "That shower was a waste. Do you know how many times it''s happened this morning already? Babe, you''re going to ruin me."


    His tone was half helpless, half teasing.


    Anneliese''s face turned crimson. "How is that my fault? I didn''t even do anything!"


    At this point, she didn''t know whether tough or cry.


    One thing was certain—she needed to stop talking about serious things while still in bed with him. Nothing ever stayed on topic.


    She shoved at his chest and scrambled off hisp like a startled rabbit, rushing to the couch across the room. She lifted both hands defensively.


    "Stay right there! We''re keeping this distance while we talk."


    Jonathan looked at her stern little face and chuckled.


    "Alright, we''ll talk."


    Anneliese opened her mouth but wentpletely nk.


    She smacked her forehead lightly, trying to restart the thoughts he''dpletely scattered.


    "I just want to understand how that fire really started, and how it spread so fast. Do you actually know why?"


    Jonathan''s expression hardened. "That year, I went to Baytree with my parents. The vi there belonged to my family. It had been empty for years.


    "My parents didn''t get along. Even on that trip, they argued nonstop2 When we were close to Baytree they got into another fight My mom took me and left first. We reached the vi before my dad did.


    "She was in a terrible mood for days, breaking things, throwing things. I didn''t want to deal with her, so I went upstairs early that night, put on my headphones, and fell asleep. When I woke up and realized there was a fire, the mes had already reached the second floof?"