After lingering by the hospital room for what seemed like an eternity, Peterson mustered the courage to pull up a chair beside the bed and slowly took a seat.

The moment he sat down, their eyes inevitably met. Starry, feeling the weight of the moment, cast her gaze downward, unable to meet his stare. Peterson, however, reached out, gently grasping her wrist. "You're divorced now, do you want to be with me?"

Starry's eyes welled up with tears as she looked down at his slender fingers resting on her wrist. Touched by his offer despite her broken state, she wondered how she, a divorced woman with a child, could possibly deserve a man like Peterson, who'd never even been touched by scandal.

"Peterson." Her voice was light, almost teasing as she pushed his hand away.

"I think it's better if I just stay your little sister."

if she had never harbored any feelings for him at all, as

so even if your mother hadn't pressured me into marriage,

smiling eyes, searching for a lie, but found them serene,

wrist. He straightened his suit and rose from the chair, "Forget what

covered her face, crying uncontrollably. She knew her decision was right. A

never to cross again, intersected unexpectedly at a cocktail party where someone had laced

When she declined, suggesting he wait

I left. It's clear you feel unworthy because you've been married and have a child. But, Starry," he said, taking her chin in his hand, drawing her closer, "I don't mind at all. I would even treat your daughter as my own.

his shirt, the love Starry had kept hidden for years surged uncontrollably. "So,

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