Lily’s face was flushed with embarrassnt. She had spent the last few monts struggling to find her voice, her cheeks burning with a mix of sha and frustration. "Mom, how could you say that?" she finally managed to say, her voice trembling with emotion. Her eyes, brimming with tears, searched her mother’s face for understanding.
Her mother, caught off guard, stared back at her daughter with a mixture of surprise and confusion. "Lily, what are you talking about?" she asked softly, her voice laden with concern.
"It’s not about hiding things from you," Lily continued, her voice gaining strength. "I wanted my own apartnt not because I wanted to keep secrets, but because I needed to be independent. Jas is my boyfriend, and I’m tired of you being so overprotective. I’m old enough to make my own decisions. I was young before, and I didn’t know better, but I’m asking you now to trust ."
Her mother’s eyes widened further as she processed Lily’s words. "Lily, I didn’t realize you felt this way," she said, her tone softening. She took a step closer, her expression one of genuine regret. "I thought I was just looking out for you."
Lily’s emotions were raw as she pressed on. "Exactly. I never told you about this because every ti I try, you react in ways that don’t even address what I’m saying. Like now. Jas had nothing to do with it. It was all my idea. I made a mistake in the past, but that doesn’t an I’ll keep making them. Please, just let make my own decisions for once."
The floodgates opened, and Lily burst into tears. The weight of her frustrations and disappointnts seed to pour out in a wave of emotion. Her mother’s expression softened with regret as she watched her daughter cry. "I’m really sorry, baby, if that’s how you feel," she said, her voice breaking with sincerity. "I didn’t know you felt this way. I thought I was just trying to protect you."
Jas, who had been a silent witness to the exchange, sensed the personal nature of the conversation and quietly stood up to leave. But as he moved toward the door, Lily’s mother stopped him with a gentle but firm voice. "Are you just going to leave your girlfriend like this?" she asked, her gaze directed at him.
Jas halted in his tracks and looked back, his expression a mixture of surprise and concern. Lily, still sobbing, glanced at her mother in astonishnt. The sudden turn of events seed to have taken her by surprise, and she looked at Jas with a mixture of gratitude and confusion.
Her mother then smiled gently, her expression one of understanding. "It’s good that you told ," she said softly. "I’ll trust you on this. Now, let’s clean up and prepare breakfast. Your face is too beautiful to be marred by tears."
Lily’s eyes widened in disbelief, and a smile slowly replaced her tears. The warmth of her mother’s support enveloped her, and she nodded, feeling a profound sense of relief.
***
Mira and Zamian arrived at the mansion just as the car ca to a smooth halt.Mira turned to Zamian, curiosity evident in her eyes. "How was it?" she asked, her tone light but inquisitive.
Zamian raised an eyebrow, his expression one of mild amusent. "How was what?" he responded.
"The ice cream," Mira clarified, her gaze fixed on him with a hint of playful impatience.
"Not bad," Zamian replied. His response was nonchalant, yet there was an undertone of satisfaction in his voice.
As they stepped out of the car, Mira imdiately made her way toward the garden. Her eyes widened in surprise as she took in the sight before her. The vase that had previously been in the garden had been replaced with a new one—one that Mira had originally wanted to purchase but had been unable to due to its steep price. Her heart skipped a beat as she turned to Zamian, her eyes wide with gratitude.
Zamian simply nodded, a small smile playing on his lips as he observed her reaction. Mira’s face lit up with genuine appreciation as she said, "Thank you." The words felt inadequate compared to the depth of her feelings, but they were all she could manage in that mont.
Zamian nodded again, acknowledging her gratitude. They both walked into the mansion, their footsteps echoing softly in the grand hall. As they made their way to their room, Mira’s gaze fell on a particular fra resting on a nearby table. It was the fra Zamian had bought during the auction at the charity gala—an exquisite piece that had captured Mira’s attention and admiration.
As Zamian noticed Mira’s gaze lingering on the fra, he asked in a tone that was both relaxed and slightly lazy, "Do you like it?"
Mira nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah, I do, but you didn’t really have to. It’s so... expensive. Do you know what this money could buy? It could probably buy an island or even pay soone’s salary for ten years. If soone worked their whole life, they might never earn as much. Imagine how many orphanages could benefit if you donated that money instead..."
Realizing she had said too much, Mira fell silent, her gaze drifting around the room. She busied herself with looking at the various decorations, trying to avoid Zamian’s gaze. He listened intently, responding with a simple, "Mm-hmm."
Mira’s cheeks flushed with embarrassnt as she continued, "I an, I appreciate the gesture, but you really didn’t have to."
Zamian, with a hint of laziness in his tone, replied softly, "You’re my wife. You love it, and that’s all that matters." His words, though simple, carried a profound depth that made Mira’s heart race. There was sothing in his tone—a lazy, yet sincere quality—that struck a chord with her, making her heart beat faster. The way he spoke, with a casual yet heartfelt sincerity, made her feel cherished in a way she hadn’t expected.
Mira couldn’t quite understand why his tone was so captivating. It was as if his voice had a unique quality that resonated deeply within her, stirring emotions she hadn’t anticipated. The realization left her feeling both exhilarated and confused.
Before she could respond further, Zamian lay down on the bed, his face turned toward the ceiling as he covered his forehead with the back of his hand. The gesture seed casual, but there was an underlying sense of weariness. Mira wondered if he was tired from the day’s activities or if sothing else was on his mind.
Deciding to stay calm, Mira muttered to herself, "No way, Zamian, that’s impossible." She slowly walked to the bed, her movents deliberate and gentle. His eyes were closed—was he sleeping? She waved her hand near his face to check, and when he didn’t react, she began to poke his cheeks softly.
When he still didn’t respond, Mira whispered, "He’s sleeping." Now that he was unguarded, she took the opportunity to observe him more closely. She gently pulled on his ear, being careful not to wake him, then gazed at his handso face. Her eyes traced the contours of his features, lingering on his lips. Tentatively, she touched them with her fingers, pushing them gently.
Mira murmured to herself, "Mira, you can’t be doing this." She sighed and continued, "But how can I stop? It’s his fault for being annoyingly handso."
As her pointer finger rested on his lips, she felt them move. Zamian’s lips curved into a subtle smile while his eyes remained closed. Mira’s heart skipped a beat as the realization hit her—he wasn’t sleeping at all.
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