Chapter 826: Chapter 826



How could he even think such a thing?

He drew in a shaky breath, his head sinking further as his eyes filled with unshed tears. The soft rhythm of the rain outside only deepened the ache inside him.

Later, when the rain had stopped and the group finished their visit, they prepared to head back to the hotel in the city.

Dulce was jolted awake during the ride, her body stiff as she tried to shake off the grogginess. The others on the bus made sure not to disturb her rest, but their concerned glances were impossible to miss.

When Dulce finally opened her eyes, the first face she saw was her gray-haired mentor, who leaned in with gentle concern. “You’re awake?”

“Yes,” Dulce murmured, her voice still weak.

“You don’t need to attend tomorrow’s activities. Just rest at the hotel and get some sleep.”

“Thank you, Professor.”

She quickly sought Michael’s figure and found him sitting in the row ahead, his gaze distant and fixed on the passing scenery.

The others on the bus remained oblivious to their connection, and Dulce had no intention of bringing it to light.

When Johnny noticed that Dulce was awake, he made his way from the middle of the bus to the last row, concern written on his face. “Are you feeling better? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

“I’m fine.”

Johnny wanted to ask more, but Dulce interrupted, “I’d like to sleep a bit more.”

“Alright, rest up.”

As he started walking back, his eyes fell on the coat draped over Dulce’s shoulders. When he glanced towards Michael, realization flickered in his eyes. Michael’s gaze met Johnny’s for a brief, charged moment, and Johnny quickly lowered his head, retreating back to his seat. So, even Michael had taken an interest in Dulce.

Dulce slept through the remainder of the ride, but once they reached the hotel, she felt an unexpected surge of energy, the weariness seemingly slipping away. She ordered takeout, sipped the unappetizing oatmeal, and lay in bed, half-watching TV as the glow of the screen flickered in the dim room. Just as she was about to drift off, a knock at the door startled her.

“Who is it?” she asked, her voice hoarse from the fever.

“It’s me, Michael.”

Dulce blinked in disbelief, wondering if the fever was playing tricks on her. She pushed herself up from the bed, hastily adjusted her hair in the mirror, and opened the door. “Is something wrong?”

Michael stood at the threshold, his posture stiff. “Are you still feverish?”

“Much better, thank you for helping me on the bus.”

“It was nothing. You fainted, and anyone would have done the same.”

Dulce nodded slowly, unsure of how to respond. She felt a strange tightness in her chest.

He had already made it clear that even if he were to date, it wouldn’t be with her. So why was he standing here now?

Her heart wasn’t made of stone, and Michael’s presence, his concern, stirred something deep within her.

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