He simply continued dressing her wounds with the same quiet care, the gentleness of his touch contrasting with the ache pounding in his chest.
He didn't want to startle her—not tonight. Not when she was already withdrawing behind that unbreakable mask again.
They sat there, wordless, but the silence wasn't empty—it was filled with emotion, unspoken thoughts, and questions that neither of them dared to ask.
After a while, Sebastian finally spoke. "Is something bothering you, Ms. Smith?"
She turned to him and gave a faint smile—polite, but devoid of life. "I'm sorry for keeping you waiting, Mr. Harper. Let's schedule our dinner for another day."
Sebastian glanced at her, emotions flickering in his eyes. He didn't push.
If she wasn't ready to speak, he would wait—quietly, patiently.
He would wait for the day she would willingly share everything with him.
He nodded. "That's alright. You need rest more than anything now."
