The vision inside Inoue's head ended abruptly, leaving him wondering how to improvise if Kate asked for details. Luckily, she was too shocked to speak, her pupils trembling with disbelief.
He seized the moment. "George often told me about that night," Inoue said softly. "Whenever he did, I felt as if I became him—reliving the moment he confessed his love to you."
Kate's wary gaze lingered on him, confusion and curiosity mingling.
"He said he trusted you with me?" she asked.
Inoue nodded. "Yes. Neither of us expected that day to come so soon."
Now came the performance. He lowered his shoulders, letting a hint of grief soften his expression. His voice carried the quiet weight of conviction.
"I came here to fulfill his last wish. I want to help you, Kate—just as he wanted."
Whether it was his tone or his eyes, something about him felt genuine. To Kate, he suddenly looked like a man mourning a dear friend.
Her guard began to fade. Perhaps it was inevitable—her husband had died only hours ago, and she was desperate for someone to lean on.
But Inoue took one step too far.
"Of course, it was George's wish that brought me here," he added, "but… I also wanted to see you again."
Kate stared at him, caught between disbelief and confusion. Yet when their eyes met, there was sincerity there, enough to make her falter.
"I know this isn't the right time," Inoue continued, "but you haven't left my thoughts. Not once."
She let out a shaky breath. The fresh air cleared her head just enough for suspicion to creep back in.
"What's your name?" she asked quietly.
They had never exchanged introductions. He knew everything about her, of course—but she knew nothing about him.
"Inoue," he said. "Inoue Tachibana."
"All right, Mr. Tachibana." Her voice quivered as her eyes filled with tears. "I understand how you feel, but… there's a time and place for everything. How could you say that today of all days?"
Her voice broke as her grief finally surfaced.
Inoue flinched inwardly.
I went too far.
But hesitation had never been his strength—back in Japan, people had always called him reckless.
"I'm sorry," he said. "But I couldn't help it."
His mind wasn't clear. Between grief, guilt, and the whisper of hidden fortune left behind by George Bradley, he couldn't stop himself from pressing forward.
"Feelings don't obey reason," he said quietly, taking a step closer.
Kate's heart fluttered. Despite herself, she felt something stir again—a dangerous, familiar warmth.
"I know," she whispered, her voice trembling. "When I saw you earlier, I noticed… your body reacted before your words did."
Her trembling finger pointed toward him.
Inoue swallowed, embarrassed but unwilling to lie.
"You're right," he admitted. "Any man who shared that night with you would feel the same."
Kate wiped her tears. "Still… not now."
But even as she said it, she was already standing closer than before.
Not now… he thought. So there will be a time?
He took a quiet breath. "Of course. Not now. Then… when?"
"I don't know," she murmured. "I'm still in shock."
"I understand."
He opened his arms, offering comfort. If she rejected him, he'd look foolish—but instead, she stepped forward and leaned into him, sobbing against his chest.
"It's all right," he whispered, stroking her back. "Cry as much as you need. You'll feel lighter after."
And she did. Her shoulders shook, her breath trembled, her grief spilled freely.
Inoue held her, letting her tears soak through his shirt, murmuring gentle reassurances.
But beneath the tenderness, something primal stirred again. Each time his hand brushed her shoulder, he felt the tension between guilt and desire.
Not now, Inoue, he told himself. Control yourself.
Gradually, her sobs softened. Then she spoke in a hushed voice.
"You really are hopeless, you know that?"
"Huh?"
"You can't even control yourself right now," she said with a faint, sad smile.
He sighed. "I told you—instincts don't listen to reason. Especially not near you."
His honesty drew a quiet laugh from her, half through tears.
"No matter what… not now," she said again, though her voice wavered slightly.
The truth was, she didn't understand herself either. She had never been the kind of woman easily ruled by passion. Even during her relationships, she had never been so easily undone. But years with George—the man's experience, his intensity—had changed her.
And last night, Inoue had awakened something she thought long dead.
Now, grief and longing twisted together, warring inside her. She didn't know whether to push him away or pull him closer.
But when his warmth pressed against her again, her thoughts blurred.
I shouldn't… but maybe just once more…
Her breath hitched. The space between them narrowed again.
Kate didn't want to be the one to start anything. Call it hesitation, or perhaps guilt — she simply didn't want to cross that line first.
But Inoue gently drew her a step away from his chest, only to lean forward and press his lips against hers.
"Mmph—!"
The sudden touch made her mind go blank. Her reason melted away, overtaken by the surge of emotions she'd tried so hard to suppress.
"I… I don't know anymore…"
His kiss was slow but hungry, tracing the shape of her lips until her resistance weakened.
Sweet heat flooded through her, and before she realized it, her body was responding on its own.
She took a step back — or so she thought — yet when awareness returned, they were already inside the room, falling together onto the bed.
"Please… don't do this, Inoue…"
Her voice trembled, but the plea lacked conviction. Even she could hear it. And Inoue sensed it too.
"You called me by my name, not my family name," he murmured, a faint smile curling at the edge of his lips. "That means something, doesn't it?"
Maybe it was a trick of the moment, but the air between them grew thicker. He could feel both their hearts racing in sync.
For Inoue, two goals had suddenly aligned — the treasure hidden beneath this very bed… and the woman who lay upon it.
"I'll make you forget everything, just for tonight," he whispered.
His hands brushed along the silk of her dress, pausing just long enough for her to feel the tremor in his touch. Each breath, each heartbeat seemed to echo louder in the dim room.
"Inoue…" she breathed. "This isn't right…"
"I know," he said softly. "Then let me be the bad one. Hate me later if you must."
Her protest faded into the air as the distance between them disappeared again. The scent of her perfume mixed with the faint salt of his skin, and their shared breath filled the silence.
Kate could feel every ounce of conflict tearing through her — grief, loneliness, desire — all twisting together until she could no longer tell them apart.
"Inoue… stop… please…" she whispered, her voice shaking.
But when his fingers brushed against her cheek, the word "stop" dissolved into a quiet gasp.
The world outside vanished. The curtains swayed faintly in the still air. Shadows trembled against the walls as they lost themselves to the pull neither could resist.