“Ashlyn, how many times have I told you, when I’m done working, I’ll come back. There’s no need for you to keep—”
His voice trailed off as he got closer and realized—it wasn’t Ashlyn.
It was Daniela.
His mocking tone immediately vanished.
Being stared at with such cold indifference, Daniela shivered. She looked pitiful and wronged, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
“Michael... Ashlyn hasn’t returned for days.”
“I’ve sent her so many apology texts, but she hasn’t responded to a single one.”
“Maybe... maybe I should move out?”
Watching her on the verge of tears again, Michael frowned and pulled her into his arms.
He placed a light, perfunctory kiss on her forehead. “Don’t think too much and take care of your health.”
“Whether Ashlyn likes it or not, from now on, this will be your home and our child’s.”
Half an hour after making that promise, Michael stood alone on the open-air balcony, wrapped in a silk robe, quietly smoking a cigarette.
He hadn’t smoked in a long time.
But tonight, for some reason... he couldn’t resist.
On impulse, he opened his contacts and scrolled all the way to the bottom—Ashlyn's number was still there.
His thumb hovered over the call button for a long time.