Chapter: 917
At that moment, Sadie seized the opportunity, asserting, “Given our impending nuptials, I hold Little desire to pass the night in
the guest room!” Anticipation illuminated her eyes as they Locked on the man a few strides away.
Holden’s irritation grew palpable as he undid his tie, glancing at Sadie. A wry chuckle escaped his Lips before he spoke. “If this
place doesn’t suit you, then leave! Shawn can look for a new place for you.”
Sadie’s disbelief was a storm in her eyes. She had merely voiced a wish without taking a step, and already he was trying to kick
her out?!
How could his heart be so mean? As she locked eyes with him, her voice shook as she dared to ask, “Is your disdain for me truly
that deep? We stand betrothed — can’t we even share a night in the same bed?”
Holden’s brow bore the weight of his weariness as he rubbed it, his patience teetering on a precipice. He chose honesty. “With
your role as Adele’s mother, concentrate on that mantle alone. Don’t delve into musings.” After a beat, he added, “I can grant you
all but one thing until my memories resurface: love.”
He then turned and Left. He left her to grapple with the echo of the closing door, her tears breaching their dam.
In his room, Holden wrestled with an all-encompassing fatigue. The room’s gentle luminescence painted tranquility.
Taking off his coat, he settled on the couch, his fingers idly toying with a Lighter. A rhythmic dance of thumb against the ignition
wheel kindled sound and a flicker of flame while his thoughts wandered.
He questioned the inexplicable. Despite Sadie’s fervent proclamations of a shared past, he felt a profound disconnection. No
symphony of heartbeats, just an impulse to escape.
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He failed to grasp the why. Why he couldn’t enfold Sadie in his arms, despite her insistence on their past love, which led to
Adele.
He struggled to fathom why he could welcome Adele yet turn away from Sadie.
As these thoughts swirled, unease crept beneath Holden’s skin — not solely due to his apathy toward Sadie, but the shadow of
oblivion shrouding his history.
Pressing his temple and setting aside the lighter, he took his cell phone as a diversion, he hoped.
In haste, he accessed a video channel with a Legion of followers named “Aria and Her Little Melon.”
The host of this account never revealed her face, and she only talked about cooking baby food.
Although the video production was not of the highest quality, the overall style was engaging. The host’s hands, which were clean
and slim, were a visual treat as they prepared the ingredients.
On top of all, Holden found solace in her voice, a lullaby to his wakefulness.
Five years after surgery, insomnia was his constant companion. Nights bled into wakefulness.
Until fate guided him to this haven.
Her voice, an elixir of dreams, consistently led him to sleep.
He admitted the anomaly, testing other baby food bloggers to no avail. Why only her voice possessed this power remained an
enigma, yet he welcomed this elusive remedy to his sleeplessness.
After immersing himself, he scrolled and donated a hundred thousand.