Sophia Sullivan tied the ribbon and returned to bed.
A red silk ribbon trailed from the floor to the mattress, like an invisible tether.
Ethan Sullivan paused, then understood her intention.
She had sensed his tension and comforted him this way—thoughtful enough not to point it out.
"Thank you," he murmured.
Warmth flooded his chest, a feeling long forgotten.
The floral tea from earlier came to mind, its soothing effect like soaking in a hot spring.
Had the old butler seen Ethan's smile then, he would have been stunned.
The restless agitation melted away, replaced by quiet contentment. He closed his eyes and drifted off.
Soon, his brows furrowed as nightmares took hold.
"No—"
An endless road stretched before him in the dream, directionless and vast.
A young girl clung to his back, their lives resting on his shoulders.
He stumbled forward, her weight growing lighter with each step.
Her small frame slipped through his grasp. His fists clenched in sleep, restless.
Then, a familiar voice whispered by his ear, soft and sweet:
"Pinky promise, a hundred years no take-backs. Wait for me to find you!"
Ethan jolted awake.
He pressed a hand to his forehead, grounding himself in the dim glow of the scented candle.
Just a dream.
"How could it feel so real?" he muttered.
Turning, he found Sophia deep in slumber, the blanket pooled at her feet.
Outside, rain pattered intermittently against the leaves.
Ethan rose and tucked the covers around her.
Exhaustion kept Sophia undisturbed, her breathing even as if she were in the safest place.
Some subconscious part of her trusted him completely—enough to sleep through his movements.
He studied her face in silence, tracing the delicate features until his gaze lingered on her parted lips.
The memory of their heated kiss in the elevator surfaced, and his breath hitched.
Catching himself, he quickly looked away and stood.
"The rain stopped."
Moonlight spilled through the dispersing clouds, casting their silhouettes onto the wall.
Entwined, like lovers.
He took a step back, letting the shadows merge into darkness.
Fingers brushing the ribbon's bow, he reached toward their overlapping silhouettes.
"Sweet dreams, Ms. Sullivan," he murmured, voice low.