Chapter 93
“Phoebe…” Colin’s voice was strained, a hint of restraint as he kissed along the nape of my
neck.
I wanted to slip away, but there was nowhere to hide.
“We’re husband and wife…”
It was as if he was reminding me of our union or perhaps convincing himself.
I sensed a touch of madness in him. The kind of madness you can’t just flip like a switch; it seeps in gradually.
“Go to sleep, you’re out of it.” I tried to coax him to bed, but he was unresponsive.
His hands held mine captive as his gaze locked with my eyes.
“Phoebe…”
…” He called out my name again. “I like you.”
He confessed his feelings for me.
A declaration.
My heart skipped a beat; since the moment I was reborn, my focus had been solely on tracking down the murderer. All I wanted was to find the murderer, to get revenge on Dexter and Melody. As for Colin, my feelings were a mix of pity, wariness, and suspicion. I couldn’t fall for anyone again.
Besides, Colin was confessing to Foebe, not me, Phoebe. Actually, I was a bit envious of Foebe to have someone so foolishly, so devotedly.smitten.
“Okay, I get it,” I whispered soothingly. “Sleep now, you’re hurting me.”
Colin kept staring at me, shaking his head. “You don’t understand…”
I almost laughed. “I really do.”
“When did you start liking me?” I blurted out, my curiosity getting the better of me. When had Colin fallen for Foebe?
If Colin ever found out Foebe was gone and I had taken her place, would he lose his mind? Would he want me dead?
“Since I was eight.” Colin answered earnestly. This text is © NôvelDrama/.Org.
Eight?
His precocious crush was certainly unique.
“I’ve liked Phoebe for many years.” He laid on top of me, his voice muffled against my neck, shy as if confessing his love.
16:15
His demeanor… what’s the difference between that and a warm, obedient dog nuzzling into its owner’s embrace? Dangerous, yet somehow reassuring.
“Alright, let’s sleep.” My emotions were tangled.
But he wouldn’t sleep: just kept nuzzling against me.
“I’m pregnant.” I warned him, signaling him not to go too far.
“Phoebe, I’m uncomfortable,” he pleaded, looking at me with those big, innocent eyes reminiscent of a forlorn puppy.
Could he actually have a split personality, switching at will? Those eyes tugged at my
heartstrings, even though he was like a bloodthirsty wolf in the alley earlier.
“You better not; it’s not happening. I’m in the early stages of pregnancy,” I pointed at him firmly. demanding he keep his impulses in check.
His eyes reddened with a look of hurt, unwilling to move off me.
I had a sinking feeling. I knew what he wanted.
“Caleb Langley!” I gritted my teeth, calling his full name as he continued to cause my ears to burn with his affection.
He wouldn’t listen, his grip on my fingers tightening.
My body tensed, and I turned my flushed face away, unable to meet his gaze. Those eyes were too enchanting.
In my past life, when Dexter tormented me, it was purely out of spite. I had no pleasure or anticipation for intimacy.
With Colin, having a child was a compromise for a greater purpose. I couldn’t bear to look at Colin, only feeling the burning touch of his fingers.
He seemed to care about the child inside me, too; aside from asking me to literally lend him a hand, he didn’t make any outrageous demands.
“Enough!” I snapped, a mix of anger and embarrassment.
“Phoebe… I’m hot,” he whispered, holding me from behind, confessing his discomfort.
“You’re feverish, sleep,” I coaxed him, saying he had a fever.
Who behaves like this? It was as if he was a beast in heat.
But at least he was a beast who knew restraint.
Colin wrapped his arms around me and dozed off into a heavy slumber.
But I was left wide awake, my mind a mess, utterly chaotic.