Youâre home, Cherise greeted Damien as he entered.
Her eyes, still carrying traces of sleepiness but unable to hide their innate clarity and brightness, as she fixed them on him. âDid you eat?â
âI grabbed a light bite at the office,â Damien replied, gently tucking her in with a thin blanket. Iâve told you not to wait up for me.â
âItâs already past ten,â he remarked, noting the lateness of the hour.
*If I hadnât come back tonight, were you planning to sleep at the dining table?â Damien queried a hint of amusement in his tone.
Feeling a twinge of embarrassment, Cherise hesitated before admitting, âI have something to discuss with you.
Furrowing his brow, Damien inquired, âWhy didnât you call me if it was urgent?â
âI thought it would be better to talk in person,â Cherise explained as she rose from the bed.
Damien sighed in exasperation. âIf it couldnât wait, you could have asked me to come home earlier.
Cheriseâs lips formed a slight pout, her voice tinged with hesitation. âI was concerned that⦠I might disturb your work if you were busy.â
After expressing her thoughts, she looked up at him with a gentle smile, her eyes reflecting. innocence and clarity. âI donât mind waiting a bit longer. I have ample time.â
Damien furrowed his brow as he peered down at the petite figure seated on the bed.
The soft light filtering through the lampshade illuminated her pure and fair visage, accentuating her ethereal beauty.
A tender sensation stirred within Damienâs heart.
He gently lifted her slender form without hesitation and cradled her in his arms?
âSilly girl,â he murmured softly.
Damien held Cherise close, his embrace so tight that she struggled to speak.
âPlease be gentler,â she managed to utter, her voice barely above a whisper. âI can hardly breathe.â
I apologize, he said in a deep voice, expressing his regret.
With care, he gently placed her back on the bed.
âDid you want to talk about something?â
The man perched on the edge of the bed, his gaze steady as he regarded her. âWhatâs on your mind?â
âThereâs someone named Mr. Whitlock, the former director of the research institute where 1 used to work,â Cherise explained, retrieving a voice recorder from the bedside table and passing it to Damien.
âHe said we should listen to this together.â
âHe emphasized its importance, and Yolanda arranged for him to pass it to you through me before she left Adania,â she added.
Damien accepted the voice recorder, his brow furrowing in concern. âYolanda gave this to you?â
âYes,â Cherise confirmed, her lips pursing.
âHe specifically instructed that I shouldnât listen it alone and that you must listen with me. âHe specifically instructed that I shouldnât listen Ait Damien glanced at her with a hint of helplessness. âYou stayed up just for this?â
Cheriseâs nightly routine typically led her to bed by 8:30 p.m.
Since her memory loss, her life had fallen back into familiar patternsâearly to bed and early to rise, waking around five in the morning.
However, tonight was different. Despite the late hour, she found herself still seated at the dining table, caught up in the mysterious matter presented by Mr. Whitlock, a task she couldnât even remember.
Unconsciously, Damien glanced at the time.
It was nearly eleven oâclock, much later than their usual bedtime.
A sense of unease crept over him as he gently squeezed her shoulder. âItâs late. Arenât you tired?â
Cherise remained on the bed, held by Damienâs presence.
Yet, she met his gaze with unwavering determination. Iâm not tired.â
âYouâre lying,â Damien teased, lightly pinching her nose. âYour bloodshot eyes betray you. Do you truly believe I wouldnât notice?â
But⦠Cherise faltered, her cheeks flushing as she glanced at the voice recorder in his hand, her expression serious and steadfast.
âBut thisâ¦
âLetâs discuss it tomorrow,â Damien suggested, sensing her hesitance.