Julie sat at the edge of the bed, back straight, fingers laced over her lap like she was trying to keep herself from trembling.
Her feet didn’t quite touch the ground, and the silk hem of her dress brushed against her knees each ti she swayed slightly.
She bit the inside of her cheek, eyes fixed on the closed bathroom door. Her plan had been simple—wait, smile, and execute.
And then Roman stepped out.
"You’re out," she said, trying to sound casual, but her voice ca out smaller than intended.
Roman nodded, a towel still draped over his shoulders. "Let change first," he said with a chuckle, catching the way her cheeks pinked up the mont their eyes t.
In three minutes, he returned—but not alone. In his hand was the slim velvet box, the one delivered earlier in the afternoon.
Julie recognized it instantly. Her breath caught.
"Co," Roman said, setting the box in front of the mirror like it was so kind of offering.
Julie stood, but before she could sit, Roman reached for her shoulders and gently turned her around. "Sit," he said again, voice lower this ti.
Julie lowered herself slowly, her reflection flickering uncertainly in the mirror. Roman opened the box.
The necklace—ruby stones threaded with diamond leaves—glowed against the deep blue velvet.
"Let’s try it on," he said softly. Holding the necklace in one hand, he used the other to sweep her hair to the side.
His fingers brushed the back of her neck, and her breath hitched.
The cold necklace on her collarbone like a secret.
Julie reached up, fingertips gliding across the stones, feeling the gentle weight and texture. Her lips curled into a soft smile.
"It’s beautiful," she murmured.
Roman stood behind her, watching her reflection more than the necklace. "It is, yeah. But you? You make it complete."
His words struck deeper than he knew. Julie glanced at him in the mirror, then quickly looked away. She didn’t trust herself to speak.
He crouched beside her instead, planting a warm kiss on her cheek. Her skin tingled where his lips had touched.
"Thank you," she whispered, reaching for his hand instinctively.
"You know what..." she started, voice trembling slightly.
Roman tilted his head. "Let know."
She turned toward him, eyes brimming but calm. "You’re the greatest gift God ever gave ."
Roman blinked. The corner of his mouth lifted. "And you’re the wish I’ve been wishing for—over and over again."
Julie laughed quietly. He always knew how to say things that made her feel like sothing rare.
"Thank you, Roman."
He stood again, gently pulling her up with him. "It’s my pleasure to buy it for you. But don’t ever thank . Didn’t I already tell you not to?"
Before she could respond, he bent swiftly and lifted her into his arms.
"Ah!" she yelped, clutching his shoulders.
"I’m tired of squatting," he said, grinning as he laid her back on the bed.
Roman sat beside her, eyes dropping to the necklace. "We forgot to remove it."
He unclasped it gently, placing it back in the box with reverence. Then, his hand reached for the switch and dimd the lights.
"Should I turn it off?"
"Ehm," Julie humd in response, already laying her head on the pillow.
Roman climbed in beside her and pulled her to his chest.
"Roman," she said softly.
"Goodnight," he whispered, kissing her forehead.
"Goodnight, hubby," she replied, the word slipping out without warning.
Roman blinked. "What did you say?"
"Nothing," Julie giggled, curling into him.
Silence settled around them until Julie’s whisper floated again in the dark.
"Roman."
"Hmm?"
"Hubby."
Her lips brushed his before he could say anything more. His breath stalled.
"Love," he groaned, capturing her mouth in a kiss that deepened quickly, wildly.
The house was dark.
Not completely—the nightlight near the living room window glowed faintly, casting a dim amber reflection against the tiled floor.
Soone had forgotten to switch it off, or maybe it was always left on like that, a silent promise that ho stayed warm, even when the people inside were asleep.
Ava pushed open the door slowly, careful not to let it creak.
Her bare feet t the cool floor the second she stepped inside.
She slipped off her sandals and held them in her hand, toes curling slightly as she walked, her breath shallow and soft.
It was late, though not that late—still, the house had settled into a hush.
Her fingers tightened around her bag as she crept past the hallway.
The silence followed her like a shadow, but it didn’t feel heavy. It was just there.
Like the quiet was watching, waiting to see if she’d finally let herself feel sothing.
In front of her bedroom door, she paused.
The knob was cold in her hand. Familiar.
And yet... she didn’t move.
She just stood there, forehead resting gently on the doorfra, eyes closed.
Why can’t I stop thinking about you?
Azazel hadn’t done anything big.
He hadn’t cornered her with questions or tried to charm her with cheesy lines. No attempt to impress.
No "can I see you again" or "send your number." Just that gentle, unreadable look in his eyes and the steady presence of soone who didn’t need to be loud to be heard.
That made it worse.
Because she didn’t know how to protect herself from sothing that didn’t ask to be let in.
She twisted the knob and slipped inside her room, finally letting the door shut behind her with a soft click.
The mont she was alone, her shoulders fell. The tension in her arms released like a string cut loose.
Her bag dropped with a thud onto the chair near the wall.
She stood in the center of her room, staring at nothing.
And then quietly, bitterly, "This is so stupid."
She kicked at the rug with her toe. "He’s not even trying," she muttered aloud to the still air, then laughed to herself. "Exactly. That’s the problem."
She walked over to the bed, flopped down on it, and stared at the ceiling.
The sa cracks she used to count when she couldn’t sleep were still there—thin, uneven, like veins on marble.
She rembered crying once while tracing them with her eyes, using the cracks as a distraction.
A place to hide the ache in her chest.
Now, she didn’t feel like crying.
She just felt... unsettled.
"I don’t know what you’re doing to ," she whispered to the ceiling.
"I don’t even know your favorite song, and I’m out here thinking about how your silence is louder than every guy who ever tried to ’win’ ."
She scoffed under her breath and rolled onto her side.
Her hand reached toward the lamp, but she paused before switching it off. Instead, she sat up and spoke into the quiet.
"Okay. Let’s just say it out loud," she said, tossing a pillow against the headboard and pulling her knees up to her chest.
Her voice was low, rough from disuse. "You confuse , Azazel Thompson."
She hugged her knees tighter.
"You don’t flirt. You don’t text. You didn’t even ask for my number tonight. But sohow... you still made feel like I was seen."
Her fingers curled around the hem of her dress.
She rembered the mont outside—the way he’d walked beside her, not too close, not too far.
He didn’t try to ask about her day. He didn’t push. He just... existed in a way that made her aware of his presence.
Like the silence between them wasn’t awkward. It was full.
"That’s not fair," she whispered, brushing her hair away from her face. "You’re not supposed to do that."
The wind rustled against the window, soft and whispering.
She turned to the mirror across the room, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the dim light.
Her expression was unreadable—maybe a little sad, maybe a little curious.
Maybe a little hopeful.
"You know what scares the most?" she asked the version of herself in the mirror. "It’s not that I’m feeling sothing."
She stood up and crossed the room slowly, bare feet padding against the wooden floor.
"It’s that I might want to."
She reached the mirror and stared at her reflection.
"I’ve run from every good thing. Every almost-love. Every maybe," she said, brushing her hand across the edge of the vanity.
"And now there’s you. And you don’t even ask to stay, but I kind of... want to."
She laughed softly, cheeks warming with the admission.
"God, that’s terrifying."
She pulled open a drawer, fidgeting for no reason at all. Just to keep her hands busy.
Her voice softened again. "You didn’t ask for anything. You didn’t even try to get close. You just... were there. And it made feel like maybe I could be too."
She glanced toward the door.
"I don’t know if you’ll ever ask," she murmured. "But if you do... I might not run."
A pause. A long one.
She whispered into the dark, "I might stay."
The words floated in the air, heavy with aning, but spoken so gently they didn’t even ripple the stillness.
She turned off the light and climbed back into bed, curling under the covers.
The silence no longer felt hollow.
It wasn’t a void.
It was space.
Space to think.
Space to hope.
And even though he didn’t ask for her number, even though he was gone for the night—Azazel’s presence still lingered.
Not in the room, but in her chest.
In the soft pause before sleep. In the safety of not being chased. In the quiet kindness that didn’t demand or expect.
Ava closed her eyes.
And for the first ti in a long ti...
She didn’t feel the need to hide.
Hi lovelies ❤️
A quick heads-up about Privilege Unlocks (for those who want to read ahead):
When you click "Purchase Privilege," Webnovel may show multiple tiers with different prices — like 3 coins, 10 coins, etc.
👉🏽 Those lower tiers only unlock 2–3 Chapters.
But the main tier I recomnd is Tier 5 — that’s 7 Chapters ahead of the regular release for 25 coins.
📌 Why Tier 5?
It gives you the full lead in the story — no breaks, no cliffhangers
It helps keep creating daily and maintaining fast updates
You get premium early access to all the emotional, romantic, and shocking scenes 👀💥
So if you’re loving the story and want to support directly, I truly appreciate you choosing Tier 5. 💖
Every unlock helps continue this journey — and lets you enjoy it first.
Thank you for being part of this with !
With all my heart,
[MIDNIGHT_STAR07]
"If you’ve unlocked Privilege, let know in the comnts! I love seeing who’s ahead 👀💕"
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