The man kneeled on one knee directly on the bed, bowing his head to look at that palm-sized small face, so close that he could almost see the fine pores on her face, and his breath caught the scent of the bath gel she had used just after her bath. There was a moment when Lu Jingchen slowly felt that he and this woman were truly and genuinely still husband and wife.
In this past week, without Song Qiao staying in this villa, he felt a loneliness so profound it seemed the villa was unbearably large.
When he saw her on the set today, he had wanted to hold her tightly in his arms, but held back hard when he remembered the resolute words she said at noon.
He had intended to force her to capitulate, but upon seeing her again, he was the one who ended up bowing down to her first.
If asked if he regretted it, probably because he saw her safe and sound genuinely lying here, what should have been regret suddenly felt like no regret at all.
