"It might take a few days, depending on how things progress," he said.
She bit her lip gently, knowing his work sotis involved confidential matters and couldn’t be explained clearly, "Will this job be dangerous?"
He chuckled, "No danger, don’t worry."
Only then did she breathe a sigh of relief.
The next night, he asked for her a lot, as if trying to make up for the next few days’ worth of absence. He kept at it until she barely had the strength to lift a finger, and finally, he let her off the hook.
In the morning, Kyle Kinston looked at Mabel Quinn still asleep in bed, a touch of tenderness in his eyes. This woman, his woman, seed to make any place feel like ho.
Even in this small apartnt complex, he felt an overwhelming sense of warmth.
After dressing, he leaned down, planted a kiss on her forehead, and thought about not being able to see her for a few days, feeling an unexpected reluctance.
"Mmm..." She opened her eyes groggily, "Kyle..."
"Sorry to wake you," he murmured softly, "You can sleep a bit more. I have to leave now, and I’ll call you when I have ti."
"Okay." She mumbled, still sowhat between sleep and wakefulness, "You have to call , I’ll wait... for your call..."
"Alright." He smiled gently, knowing that soone was waiting for him felt incredibly good.
——————
By the ti Mabel Quinn fully awoke, Kyle Kinston had already left, but his scent still seed to linger in the air. Mabel vaguely rembered him ntioning he would call when he had ti.
Her body felt clean, likely because he helped her shower before they finished last night. Thinking about the aftermath made her cheeks flush uncontrollably.
She pulled off the covers, got out of bed, and began to dress. Today was the Tomb-Sweeping Festival; she would first visit her father’s grave and wait for Kyle to return and go together.
Mabel prepared several dishes her father loved, brought incense and candles, and headed to the cetery. She was slightly surprised upon arrival to see soone else at her father’s tombstone, offering him wine.
"Uncle," Mabel approached him and said.
Edward Quinn straightened up and glanced at Mabel Quinn, "You’re here."
"Yes." She noticed that candles and incense had already been placed before the grave. She took out her own incense, lit three sticks, bowed three tis with them, then placed them before putting out the dishes she brought.
Edward smiled slightly, "Asher has a daughter like you; I’m sure he’d be happy even in the afterlife."
"Dad must be happy seeing you here too, Uncle," Mabel said.
Edward sighed, "Yes, I haven’t visited him in years. Back then, among my cousin brothers, he was the closest to , but later..."
"What happened later?" Mabel was taken aback. In her mory, while her father was alive, her uncle treated him like any other branch family mber, not particularly special.
"Nothing," Edward shook his head, unwilling to continue.
Mabel saw this and said nothing more, while Edward’s gaze fell on the photo on the tombstone. If it hadn’t been for his discovery of Asher’s inappropriate affection for Clover, his jealousy leading him to repress and distance Asher, Asher’s life might have been better, and Clover wouldn’t have been angry at him.
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