chapter412
Mila shifted slightly on the bed, murmuring in her sleep before drifting back into a heavy, alcohol-induced slumber.
“Chubs?” Nathan’s voice was a low, grounding murmur. He reached out, his fingers gently brushing her messy bangs aside and tucking them behind her ear. He frowned slightly, his expression softening with a mix of exasperation and tenderness. “Wake up, you can’t sleep like this. You’ll catch a cold if you’re not careful.”
Mila only heard a distant buzzing in her ears. She brushed at the air as if shooing away a fly and curled onto her side, pulling the covers tighter. Nathan sighed, resigned. To ensure her comfort—and to maintain the boundaries he had strictly set for himself—he laid out a simple air mattress on the floor. He spent a restless night, waking every few hours just to ensure she was still covered and resting peacefully.
The next morning, the room was bathed in a warm, golden light. A refreshing breeze fluttered the curtains, bringing with it the scent of a new day.
Mila woke groggily, her head throbbing with the remnants of the previous night’s indulgence. She rubbed her eyes, trying to piece together the fragmented memories. She remembered the argument with Nathan, the stinging feeling of being ignored, and then... the bar with Sienna.
As the fog lifted, flashes of the night returned: Nathan carrying her through the foyer, his steady hands holding a glass of water for her, the gentle way he looked after her when she was at her worst. Then, a sharp realization hit her. She felt the unfamiliar texture of the sheets against her skin and panicked.
She checked herself under the blanket, her heart leaping into her throat. What happened last night?
Her mind raced with a thousand possibilities. Had they finally crossed that line while she was too incoherent to remember? A wave of embarrassment and frustration washed over her. If something significant had happened, how could she have missed it? She felt a surge of indignation. She had spent so long trying to get his attention while sober, and now she feared he had only stepped closer when she wasn't herself.
“That man…” she muttered, her face burning. “To be so indifferent when I’m awake and then this?”
She noticed a set of clean clothes laid out neatly on the foot of the bed. Her thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion as she dressed and headed to the bathroom. Curiously, she didn't feel the physical discomfort she had always heard accompanied such life-changing moments. She even found herself discretely checking her phone for answers about "post-intimacy" feelings, only to be met with a confusing array of conflicting information.
By the time she finished freshening up, she was more bewildered than ever. Was the lack of clarity a sign of his gentleness, or had her imagination simply run wild?
She finally gathered the courage to head downstairs. Nathan was already there, leaning back on the sofa with his laptop balanced on his lap. His fingers moved with practiced grace across the keyboard, his profile sharp and composed in the morning light.
Just looking at him made Mila’s heart race. The cool, collected General looked as if he hadn't a care in the world, while her entire reality felt as though it had been turned upside down. She stood at the base of the stairs, her pulse pounding, caught between the urge to demand answers and the desire to simply keep watching him.