After they finished tidying up, the two of them returned to the bedroom to rest. Realizing it was Kent’s room, Silvia suddenly felt shy and instinctively wanted to retreat to her own. But Kent caught her wrist and gently pulled her onto the bed. His gaze lingered on her, a playful smirk curling at his lips. “You take everything from me and now you want to run away?”
Hearing that teasing note in his voice, Silvia shivered, caught between embarrassment and laughter.
She nodded, then managed, “Okay.”
They were husband and wife, after all. It wasn’t realistic to keep sleeping in separate rooms forever. At some point, they’d have to take this step.
His bed carried his faint, familiar scent, and as Silvia breathed it in, her eyes flickered and a rosy blush crept over her delicate face. She glanced at Kent, biting her lip, questions gnawing at her. Finally, she couldn’t hold it in any longer and blurted out, “Who’s Via?”
Kent’s brow furrowed slightly when she asked, but he quickly seemed to understand what she meant.
He shrugged, mouth quirking. “Via is you.”
Me?
Silvia froze, startled.
She’d suspected as much, but no matter how she searched her memory, she couldn’t recall ever meeting Kent before.
“We… don’t really know each other,” she murmured, confused.
Kent’s eyes darkened with something complicated. After a brief pause, he shook his head. “We met when we were kids. It’s not surprising you don’t remember.”
Silvia stared at him, wide-eyed, trying desperately to pull up some scrap of memory from the past. But no matter how hard she tried, nothing surfaced.
She wanted to ask more, but Kent slipped his arm naturally around her waist, drawing her into his embrace. His voice was low, his tone gentle but firm. “It’s late. Let’s get some sleep.”
“But…”
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