At eleven o’clock that night, there was finally a sound at the door.
At first, Melissa didn't react, thinking she had misheard. But when the heavy thud of the door closing echoed through the house, she shot to her feet, looking anxiously toward the entryway.
Evan changed his shoes and walked in. When he saw her standing in the dining room, he simply said, “You’re still up?”
Then, without a second glance, he began to take off his overcoat.
“Mr. Cooper…”
Melissa stood there, wringing her hands. She bit her lower lip, her eyes stinging with tears she was desperately trying to hold back, afraid of annoying him.
“What is it?”
As Evan walked further into the room, he finally noticed that something was off with her.
His gaze went past her slender figure to the untouched meal on the dining table. He paused, then looked back at the woman before him.
Her soft, long hair was loosely tied back, with stray strands framing her face and falling near her ears. Even though the floor heating was on, the house wasn't particularly warm. He saw her standing there in just a thin blouse, her apron still on, looking at him with a timid and cautious expression—
Inevitably, Evan’s heart couldn't help but soften.
He walked over and took her hand. It was ice-cold.
“Why didn’t you turn up the heat? It’s so late, haven’t you eaten yet?”
His tone wasn’t exactly gentle; there was even a hint of reprimand in it. But to Melissa, it was enough to make her heart flutter.
“I-I’m not cold…”
She kept her head down, trying to avoid his eyes, afraid that if she met his gaze, she would start crying.

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