'Do I have to spend twenty years winning her over, too?'
'I could. Twenty years… as long as I can be with her in the end, why not?'
But he was just so scared.
He was afraid that it would all be for nothing in the end—that time would slip away, she would build a life with someone else, and he would be left to die old and alone.
Leona Grant slowly squatted down, gazing deeply at her peaceful, sleeping face.
Asleep, she didn't seem as cold as she usually was, yet an unshakable air of distance still clung to her.
The light from the bedside lamp illuminated the affection in Leona Grant's eyes, throwing his chiseled features into even sharper relief.
Normally, he seemed invincible, indifferent to the world, as if no one could cause the slightest ripple in his emotions.
But what no one knew was that his every emotion was now at the mercy of another. A single word from Annabelle Linton could set off a tempest in his heart.
He just never let it show.
