Love On Ice: Don’t Leave Me, My Charming Liar

Chapter 61: Once Murray had departed, Nyla reached for her phone to text Bonnie. "Bonnie, could you dig up some information on the Higgins family members involved in the dye industry a few years back?" Bonnie's response, a brief "Okay," came after a pause. Settling back, Nyla's thoughts lingered on past events until sleep overtook her. She awoke later, parched and disoriented, sensing a presence by her bed. Her body stiffened, and her mind raced to the vase on the bedside table. Before she could act, her hand was firmly grasped. "Awake?" Ethan's voice, rough and low, broke the silence.

Startled yet relieved to recognize it was Ethan, Nyla relaxed slightly, though puzzled by his presence at such a late hour. "Why are you here so late, trying to scare me?" Ethan remained silent; his mood was evident even in the dark. Nyla, still angry, had no intention of pleasing him. She attempted to sit up and turn on the light, wanting to retrieve her hand. But Ethan's grip was firm, preventing her from moving away. She finally turned to face him and whispered, "Ethan, is something bothering you?" Despite the darkness, Nyla could discern the weariness in Ethan's eyes.

"Trevor Fowler won't be coming back to the country," Ethan said, his voice a cold declaration of fact. Caught off guard, Nyla flashed back to her tearful complaints about being bullied by the Fowler family, her heart racing without reason. Yet, the clarity remained-Ethan needed her presence for the time being. Her lip caught between her teeth, she reminded herself to remain alert. Over the last two years, she had sometimes been swayed by Ethan's sporadic acts of kindness. His support had been undeniable. However, the one thing she truly desired from him remained elusive.

Gripping Ethan's sleeve, she inched closer. "Ethan, what's the purpose behind all this?" Explore captivating tales on gα ℓ ησ ν s․com She awaited his response, the silence of the room amplifying the eerie howl of the wind outside and the loud beating of her own heart. Instead of answering, Ethan diverted with his own question. "What do you wish for your birthday?" A child who didn't get candy was prone to tears and tantrums. Nyla, no longer a child, wouldn't cry-but she felt her anger rising. Ethan always managed to stir a mix of emotions in her.

It seemed he compounded these emotional rollercoasters with sweet gestures. It was evident once more: Vicki had made a mistake about her birthday again-a recurring oversight. Nyla had long stopped caring. However, Ethan had always remembered her birthday since her early days with the Brooks family, and his gifts hadn't ceased since they became intimate. And so it continued. "What if I asked you not to marry Callie? Would you honor that wish too?" Her query was steady, yet a keen ear would catch the slight quiver in her tone, her illness rendering her voice fragile.

Silence stretched between them. Nyla's throat felt painfully dry. She coughed lightly, her hand reaching for the water glass on the table, but Ethan was quicker. He drew her close, lifting the glass to her lips. . . .