Sweet Mischief’s Rollercoaster Romance

Leo stood by the bed, his eyes fixed on the corner of Anya's blanket. His hand hovered uncertainly, unable to push past the mental barrier he had set for himself. For a guy like him, lifting a sleeping girl's blanket, even with the purest intentions, felt like crossing a line. Raised by his uncle to embody gentlemanly behavior and constantly reminded by his mother about chivalry, he treated Anya with the utmost respect. So, he gently nudged Anya's shoulder. "Hey, wake up. You should be sleeping under the covers, not sitting up like that."

Anya, deep in sleep, barely stirred.

When Leo gave a firmer push, worried she might topple over, her body leaned to one side. Instinctively, Leo knelt on the bed, one leg pressing down on the blankets, the other hand wrapping around her neck to steady her. Startled awake, Anya's eyes met the chest of the man she had been waiting for. "Chad-"

Leo sighed in relief. "Why were you sleeping sitting up?"

"I was waiting for you. I guess I fell asleep reading. Chad, you didn't come to pick me up from my uncle's house tonight," Anya's voice was filled with disappointment. She was so used to being picked up by him that his absence left her feeling strangely empty. Leo frowned. "I thought you were staying over at Maplewood Estates tonight. How did you get back?"

"The butler went to pick up Grandpa, so I hitched a ride with him," she said, rubbing her eyes and yawning, completing her wake-up routine in front of him.

Finally fully awake, she asked, "Did you just get back?"

I've been home for a while. Stayed in my room.

ask how your talk went with Aunt Sarah and Aunt Jane. But

can talk about it tomorrow. I'm planning to hit the

"Of course!"

Anya loved tagging along. "Alright, sleep tight. See you tomorrow." Watching Leo's retreating figure,

she tried to sleep but

the ceiling; one crying out in the night,

find no parents by his side a recipe for a full-blown meltdown, his

soft baby flesh slick with sweat from crying. Carrying him back to the bedroom, Mia, barely awake, picked up Andre's discarded pajama shirt and hurried over to console their son, pressing

Mia soothed, rhythmically patting his back while instructing Andre, "Honey, grab the sky-blue pajamas we put away today for him. He's soaked through

pajamas, appreciating how well Mia organized their walk-in closet,

her fate. Yet, seeing her son's peaceful face and knowing Andre's nurturing support, all was forgiven. After a satisfying feed, the baby was ready for playtime in