A pang of sorrow tugged at Waylen’s heart.

He longed to whisk Rena, now 20, away, as if he could possess two versions of her.

One mature and refined.

The other youthful and naive.

The very notion was almost unbearable to contemplate.

His head dipped, lips pressing against her forehead, a murmur escaping his lips.

“We’ll be together, Rena.

Trust me.

his embrace, sunlight streaming through the

complexion was flawless, her brows elegantly arched, and her chestnut locks

bright like those of a newborn animal, held a tremor as she spoke with a quivering

“I trust you.

Rena, who now stood at 20, this relationship had been akin

apartment, an inexplicable sense of familiarity had overtaken her, leading her to a

appearance by her side, that day on campus merely

always been steadfast in following her emotions, unwavering in her

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the potential disapproval of his parents—such considerations had been forgotten, cast

her fragility and vulnerability, a hint of grievance lingered, but Waylen’s silent presence assured

her back to reality, though his

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unraveled his plans, weaving dreams

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