She wasn't afraid of him. She was afraid she might become attached to this hand.
The feel of this hand was so reminiscent of the memory of the one that pulled her back from the brink of death. Ever since then, she couldn't forget those hands. But what does "reminiscent" even mean? It was clearly the same hands.
Tonight was so full of coincidences and twists of fate. She had tried for years to forget him, yet in the end, she was inexplicably pushed back to his side.
She was finally able to, like taking a breath in the gaps.
That same hand still rested on her shoulder, weighing on her heart like a mountain.
She could only tell herself: get used to it, get used to it—
This is all her debt to him.
Her life was already his.
The people in the car were completely unaware of the turmoil in her heart.
The car drove smoothly back to their doorstep.
Yao Ye carried the suitcase upstairs noisily.
