Chapter 24: But He Looked Up at the Moon

Abbie was alone in the empty corridor, her slender body leaning against the cold door. A chill settled over her heart. Light spilled from a nearby study.

Inside, a man, recently showered, stood with wet hair clinging to his handsome face. Water droplets traced the line of his bronze neck; his Adam's apple moved with a captivating grace. He wore a white bathrobe, revealing a strong chest. His long limbs were smoothly muscled. He padded toward his desk in slippers, his gaze falling on a thriving mimosa plant—a testament to someone's daily care. He lived in a villa also adorned with mimosa plants, but rarely went home because of a certain woman. He often recalled seeing her at the window, watering the flowers, her posture languid, her smile bright.

“Why am I thinking of that shameless woman?”

Kelvin's face hardened, anger flickering between his brows. With a sharp “Bang,” he tossed a towel onto the sofa and slumped into an armchair. He picked up a book and began to read:

From The Moon and Sixpence: “All over the place was sixpence, but he looked up at the moon.”

Below, in a delicate script, was written: “Kelvin, he is my moon.”

His heart jolted. Cheyenne? It couldn't be! Yet the handwriting was unmistakably hers. He unconsciously rubbed the page, creating a soft rustling sound. His dark gaze deepened, filled with complex emotions.