Looking at his handsome face, my heart felt serene and at peace. I gave his lips a gentle kiss, thoughtfully observing his slightly melancholic sleeping expression. I couldn't help but curl my lips into a smile. No wonder this guy's coldness and melancholy seemed to be ingrained from birth—even in his sleep, he was gradually accumulating sadness. No wonder he was so gloomy!
Was he thinking about his mother again?
Or was he troubled by those lingering hatreds?
Or perhaps, he was missing his Alma. Renata kept calling out "Alma" every day—he couldn't possibly feel nothing about it.
The past was like an unyielding steel door, standing firmly between us. I could treat it as if nothing had happened between him and the three maids, but I could never overcome the two women who forever resided in his heart.
