Once she understood what Kent meant, Silvia nodded. She pressed her lips together, hesitated, then asked, “So, you and your father…”
The last time she’d visited the Parsons estate, she hadn’t seen much interaction between father and son.
Silvia found herself feeling a pang of sadness for Kent, imagining he might have grown up in a world without warmth or affection.
Sadness?
As soon as she realized what she was feeling, Silvia frowned slightly and glanced at Kent, her eyes flickering.
Was it because they were married now? She couldn’t believe she was starting to feel sorry for him.
Kent answered quietly, “There’s no real conflict between us, we’ve just never talked much. That’s all.”
It was, he supposed, like some fathers and sons—Carlisle Parsons showed love through strict expectations.
Neither of them was good at expressing their feelings.
Silvia nodded to show she understood, blinking thoughtfully. Suddenly, an idea struck her. “Well, if that’s the case, maybe sometime when we’re both free, we could visit your dad together.”
Kent’s lips curled into a faint, teasing smile. “Silvia,” he said, “he’s your father, too.”
A flush crept up Silvia’s ears.
Neither of them had eaten yet, so they decided to grab lunch before heading out. Afterwards, Kent drove Silvia to her office building.
As Silvia reached for the door handle to get out, Kent suddenly reached over, his hand closing gently around her wrist. His thumb brushed lightly against her skin.
“I’ve arranged for a security guard for your company,” he said. “Shipley won’t get another chance to bother you at work.”
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