Boom—
Thunder crashed outside, sudden and sharp.
Celestine frowned. “Let’s do this another time. It’s about to rain.”
Lance’s disappointment was obvious. “Alright.”
“But,” Celestine teased, “if you’re scared, I could stay with you a little longer.”
She’d done her homework on him—this was the kind of man who hated being pitied, couldn’t stand anyone’s charity.
Unless he asked for it himself.
“No need. You should go,” Lance said quickly, then added, “I’ll look forward to next time, as long as Miss Selwyn is here of her own free will.”
Celestine arched a brow. “Mr. Blake, you’re reading too much into this.”
Lance smiled faintly, but didn’t reply.
He was doing it on purpose, dropping those ambiguous lines that made people second-guess, left them tangled up in their own thoughts.
As she turned to leave, Celestine paused at the door.
She doubled back to his bedside, rummaged through her bag, and set an apple on the nightstand.
“Sometimes you talk in your sleep. Apples are supposed to help with that—maybe you’ll get some real rest tonight.”
She looked up and caught the surprised look in Lance’s eyes, and gave him a quick, gentle smile.
Before he could say a word, she slipped out of the room.
Lance stared at the apple, the corners of his mouth twitching into a barely-there smile.
What kind of trick was this?
Had she really stayed up all night?
Or… had she overheard something?
But instead of worrying she might have caught his sleep-talking, Lance found himself much more interested in the apple she’d left behind.
As Celestine walked away, she caught a glimpse of Lance’s pinky finger curling in nervousness. Amusing, she thought.
Passing by the maternity ward, Celestine slowed her pace.
Her conversation with Gideon still lingered, ending on a question left unanswered.
She sighed softly.
A strange feeling twisted inside her.
Silently cursing herself, Celestine made for the exit.
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