The night had fully fallen, and everything outside was silent.
Only a dim nightlight glowed in the master bedroom.
After finishing her nightly routine, Delia slipped into bed in her silky nightdress.
A few minutes later, Curtis came out of the bathroom, and with her help, lay down beside her.
They laid there quietly, with a small space still between them.
But something felt different tonight – the air between them was warmer, more intimate.
Delia could hear his steady breathing right next to her.
The fresh, clean scent on him, mixed with his distinctive masculine smell, lingered around her nose and brought an odd comfort that made her eyelids heavy with sleep.
Just as she was about to drift off, her mind suddenly circled back to something she had wondered about all day.
She turned to face Curtis, her eyes trying to make out his features under the soft light.
“Honey, you still haven’t told me…
how do you see me now?”
Her voice was soft, but it somehow made Curtis tense up.
In the darkness, he didn’t say a word, just stared up at the ceiling, lost in thought.
How did he feel about her?
It was complicated.
There was joy, disbelief, confusion – a rush of emotions that choked up his throat, leaving him unsure where to begin.
His silence made Delia sigh quietly, but she didn’t seem disappointed.
Slowly, she scooted closer, closing the little gap between them.
Then she gently wrapped her arm around his waist, resting her face against his warm, firm arm.
Curtis stiffened like a statue the second she touched him, and even forgot to breathe for a heartbeat.
Then he felt her warm breath brush against his ear.
“Honey…
Curtis, I love you.
Really, so much…”
The wave of emotion that surged up drowned out every bit of logic in his head.
In a beat, he turned toward her without even thinking.
Now they were face to face, so close that their breaths tangled in the air between them.
Delia’s eyes were shining in the dark, glimmering with affection and a dash of nervous hope.
Curtis stared at her face – those lashes, those parted lips…
And in that moment, the last thread of reason inside him just snapped.
He leaned in, like something unseen had him on a string, pulling him toward her.
Delia’s heartbeat sped up wildly as he came closer, and she shut her eyes without thinking.
Only her trembling lashes betrayed how nervous and excited she felt.
Just as their lips were about to meet-
“Ding-” A crisp notification sound broke the moment.
It was a text.
Curtis’s phone, sitting on the nightstand, had a new message from Noah.
It wasn’t loud, but it snapped Curtis right back to reality.
He froze, the fire in his eyes suddenly extinguished.
Then he quickly pulled away, turning his back to Delia like he’d been burned.
He cleared his throat, voice hoarse, “It’s late.
Let’s get some sleep.”
Seriously?
So close…
Delia bit her lip as a wave of disappointment and frustration washed over her.
But in the end, she didn’t say anything more – just quietly pulled her arm back and turned over as well.
The warmth from earlier vanished instantly, like a dream that faded too soon.
Curtis sat up in a hurry and wheeled himself over to his chair by the bed.The bedroom door clicked shut softly a few moments later.
Curtis wheeled himself to a quiet corner on the second floor.
It was far from the master bedroom, the dim wall sconces glowing faintly on the wall.
He took a deep breath of the night air, trying to calm the rapid thumping in his chest and the lingering heat tingling across his skin.
Just now, Delia had her eyes closed, her long lashes fluttering slightly.
Her warm, sweet breath brushed against the edge of his lips.
The whole moment replayed in his mind like a slow-mo film on loop, every detail magnified, dripping with temptation.
He could almost feel her soft skin under his fingertips.
Like a trap made of sugar and fire, threatening to pull him in and burn him up.
Then, the phone in his palm buzzed again.
Curtis clenched his eyes shut for a second, and when he opened them, the emotions in his eyes were forcibly shoved down.
He slid to answer the call, bringing the phone to his ear.
“Yeah?”
“Mr.
Stockton,” Noah’s voice came through, steady as always.
“I’ve compiled the updates on the Stockton family.”
He launched into a detailed report, but Curtis found it hard to focus.
Noah’s words floated in like sound through thick glass – faint and distorted.
Curtis unconsciously rubbed his fingertips along the cold metal of his wheelchair’s armrest.
All he could think about was Delia.
“Curtis, I love you.
Really, so much…” Her voice echoed relentlessly in his chest.
“…Mr.
Stockton?
Mr.
Stockton?” Noah’s report had wrapped up, but there was no feedback.
Only the sound of Curtis’s uneven breathing came through the line.
This sort of pause was almost unheard of in Noah’s years working under him.
He raised his voice slightly.
“Mr.
Stockton!”
That snapped Curtis out of it.
Aware of his lapse, he cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Yeah, I’m listening.
Go on.”
On the other end, Noah instantly picked up on the shift.
After nearly a decade working with Curtis, where he’d always seen him coolheaded and razor-sharp, this…
difference didn’t go unnoticed.
Ever since Miss Fleming had started acting…
different, things around Curtis had started shifting too.
It wasn’t a drop in performance – more like a vibe.
But Noah kept those thoughts to himself, not daring to say them out loud.
He quickly refocused.
“Should we keep the current pressure on Matthew?”
Curtis paused briefly, voice regaining its usual calm.
“Stick to the original plan.
No need to rush, but don’t let up either.”
He added, tone colder now, “Send more people to watch Craig.”
“Yes, understood,” Noah replied without hesitation.
“Thanks for your work,” Curtis said more gently.
As he prepared to hang up and head back, the scene from moments ago flashed through his mind again.
That indescribable jolt gripped him all over again, curling tight around his heart like vines.
“Delia…” he murmured, eyes shutting once more.
And then, another flash – Delia earlier that day, standing her ground against Craig.
Bold, stubborn, unyielding.