Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Chapter 727

Chapter 727

Something wasn't right.

Clara lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling.

No, something was definitely off. Dylan's tenderness, the way he cared for her-it all felt alarmingly natural, like he'd been doing it forever.

She remembered what Mrs. Hawthorne had said, about Dylan picking wildflowers at the old country chapel. She remembered hurling those flowers at him; he hadn't made a sound in protest.

She had no idea how long she drifted in her thoughts before the door creaked open again. Dylan stepped in, carrying a bowl of soup.

He gently helped her sit up, slipping a pillow behind her lower back.

He stirred the soup, scooped up a spoonful, and held it to her lips.

She drank, her eyes lingering on his face.

But Dylan wouldn't meet her gaze. He just quietly repeated the motion-scoop, feed, repeat-like this was the most normal thing in the world.

Clara ate until her stomach finally stopped aching. Only then did she speak, her voice hesitant. "You..."

She got the word out, then immediately turned away, embarrassed.

Even that small movement felt exhausting-her whole body was heavy and weak. Dylan just waited, holding the bowl, patient for whatever she wanted to say.

The silence pressed in, thick and tense, like he was waiting for his sentence to be passed.

If she'd remembered her past, she wouldn't be this gentle, she thought. But fate had been strangely generous to him.

before she dropped

trembling. He

couldn't hold his gaze. Her cheeks

her words stuck in her throat,

just

her eyes and leaned back, letting out a

knew, deep down. I just... I thought you saw me

mind. That night she'd been pushed into the pit, with dirt raining down on

ruined his legs, and he

was always so good to her, and

forced her into marriage, and she'd told herself it

even considered that he might

kaleidoscope-every little, dazzling piece hidden where nobody could see. Who knew

of love could drive

face was hot as she

even made him look into Z, thinking he just didn't like Z

that. He

this, she would've kept being cold, kept treating

suddenly, she couldn't bear to hurt him anymore. Emotional debts-those

I was... so slow

made her feel lighter, like she could

the bowl. Then, suddenly, his breath was on her-and his lips

flew open, heart

how long he kissed her. Heat

his chest, trying

trailed down,

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