Her lips quivered, no words forthcoming.

He released her hand with gentle resignation.

Frustration gnawing at him, he longed for a smoke.

Finally, he spoke, his voice a calm veneer.

“Cecilia, I’ve wronged you, I know. And I feel your resentment. I’ve lived these years, risking everything for you, our kids. I’ve earned your coldness, but I’m aging, Cecilia. I wanna do everything to care for you and our family while I still can. If we prolong this, I fear it’ll be too late.”

His gaze held her. Her vitality contrasted his concealed fear of aging.

her see the insecurity shadowing his pride. The fear

reluctance to chase her, but a

Cecilia’s heart sank.

forgive him, to grasp his hand, to

But she couldn’t.

in tears, unaware Mark

rights

Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and

kept abreast of her life only through snippets. Her career

to the kids, with

if it was

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