CHAPTER 122: CHAPTER 122: SWEETHEART

The footsteps stopped by the ear.

A familiar presence enveloped her.

It was Blake Sinclair.

Her body almost instinctively wanted to lean in for comfort, but as the thought shifted, the grievances from these cold war days, the tasteless takeout, the loneliness of sitting alone all night... all the sorrow surged to her heart.

Holly forced herself to push back.

Tears streamed down uncontrollably, curling up in pain, yet she didn’t forget to push him away, "Go away."

Blake Sinclair was stung by her crying voice.

He didn’t dare to tell her that every night he waited for her room’s light to go out, until she was completely asleep, before he dared to use the spare key to secretly open the door and come in to see her.

Watching her frown and toss even in her dream, he could only sit carefully by the bed, touching the duvet corner, gazing at her greedily for a few extra seconds once she was asleep, then leaving.

Seeing her barely eat tonight, and drinking so much ice-cold, there’s no way she could sleep.

Sitting in the living room for half the night, not daring to look at the light, until he heard her muffled sobs, unable to sit still anymore.

"Holly, sweetie, is it your stomach hurting?" Blake Sinclair softened his voice, coaxing humbly.

Just touched her back, sensing her tremble.

Holly wiped her tears haphazardly, bit by bit pulling the duvet to wrap herself up, not even granting a glance, absolutely not meaning to talk to him.

Blake Sinclair hugged her through the duvet, reaching his hand in to cover her stomach, gently rubbing, "Don’t be afraid, I’m here."

The resentment accumulated over days, the physical discomfort, broke down entirely when he embraced her in his arms.

Holly pushed him hard, tears flowing even more fiercely, "Go away, I don’t want your care."

Blake Sinclair listened to her refusal with a crying tone, heart aching, yet he held her tighter.

He continued to massage her belly with one hand, using the other hand to send a message with his phone.

Then, he lowered his head to touch her forehead, coaxing her softly repeatedly.

"I don’t want you, I want to go home."

"Don’t touch me."

Holly cried with grievance and urgency, hurtful words hitting Blake Sinclair’s heart incessantly.

Every word like an ice needle, piercing him all over, making him cold.

The bit of darkness in his heart and the suppressed emotions from these days completely broke down.

He recalled her laugh while talking with Aiden Jenson, remembered the elusive panic when secretly watching her these nights, and her rejection and distance just now pushing him away.

Blake Sinclair hugged her tightly, carrying an unnoticed stubbornness and shiver: "Don’t leave me, Holly, you can’t leave me, don’t go anywhere...."

He was afraid, afraid she would truly leave, afraid of returning to those days of only watching her from afar.

"I don’t..."

Holly wanted to retort, but the pain in her stomach drained her strength, leaning against him.

His heart pounded intensely, chest heaving, hot and fiery, silent tears soaked into their collars, also dampening his pained and anxious heart.

The temperatures of ice and fire intertwined, leaving deep traces.

Engraved in memory...

Perhaps exhausted from crying, Holly’s sobbing diminished, consciousness gradually blurred, eventually dozing off in his arms.

Half-asleep, she felt a faint sting on the back of her hand, then a cool liquid entering her vein.

.....

Holly awoke in warmth.

The first sensation was the chest pressed against her back.

She was held tightly from behind, enveloped completely by familiar presence.

A big hand through her pajamas, kneaded gently with the right force.

It was Blake Sinclair.

Warm breath brushed her skin from behind her neck, causing a slight shiver.

Holly’s body unconsciously stiffened a bit, his hand on her belly tightened.

The air was filled with a subtle silence.

Skin touching, both aware the other was awake.

Finally, Blake Sinclair spoke first.

His chin lightly brushed her hair, cautiously calling her name.

"Holly."

Holly didn’t respond.

"Does your stomach still hurt? Is anywhere else uncomfortable? Want to drink some warm water? Or think of anything you’d like to eat, I’ll make it."

He tossed out a string of questions.

Holly remembered her mishap and tears from last night, the grievances and awkwardness in her heart bubbled up again.

She pressed her lips together, intentionally not answering, directly removing his hand from her belly.

Feeling her rejection and silence, Blake Sinclair’s heart twisted, aching.

He didn’t let go, instead holding her tighter.

Holly struggled twice, kicked and stomped on his leg, finally giving up in resignation.

"Holly, I checked about Bianca Tom."

His voice was muffled, with a bit of clumsy appeasement: "He said Pisces and Leo indeed have occasional frictions, but they are a match made in heaven, complementary and long-lasting, very compatible, no conflict at all. Let’s not have a cold war, okay?"

He cautiously observed her reaction, "Holly, I was wrong."

Holly didn’t turn back, just watched the light seeping through the curtain gap, heart aching and full, the grievances long suppressed resurfaced.

Stubbornness arose, but she didn’t push him away again, merely said muffled: "What are you wrong about? I see you sulking these past days, not speaking, thinking I’m just having a tantrum."

Blake Sinclair lightly massaged her abdomen, pulling her closer into his arms, "No, it’s all my fault."

Holly huffed, turned to face him, her eyes slightly swollen from last night’s crying: "Blake Sinclair, watching me sulk these past days, not talking to you, not eating, didn’t you feel particularly uncomfortable?"

Blake Sinclair nodded honestly, "Uncomfortable. Nearly insane."

These days, he felt like he’d become a mere shell, heart seemed to miss a chunk, empty, cold, and painful.

"Then I didn’t know anything, feeling like a fool being kept in the dark, hearing people speak suggestively guessing, it’s the same kind of feeling! Even worse!"

Holly spoke more, feeling increasingly wronged, the repression of emotions from these days suddenly found a release, all pouring out.

"You could have told me, but you chose not to say anything. Must I seem unreasonable to you?"

Blake Sinclair looked at her reddened eyes, heart wrenched, hurting fiercely.

He reached to touch her face, but she avoided him.

"No, Holly, you’re great. It’s all my fault, fearing you’ll overthink, fearing misalignment, being presumptuous."

Blake Sinclair lowered his demeanor apologizing sincerely, "Holly, I didn’t do well, teach me how to be better in the future, okay? I’ll listen to everything you say."

"I don’t want to teach you, can’t you learn yourself?"

"Learn, I’ll learn whatever you say."

Hearing him say this, Holly sniffled, her mouth twitched, starting to recount old grievances, tone like a complaint, or like playing coy:

"The takeout was awful.... Oily, greasy, expensive!"

"I couldn’t sleep well at night, the bed was hard and cold."

"You clearly knew I was angry, yet you didn’t console me, just made a table full of tempting food! Watching me order terrible takeout!"

"Also, when I’m angry and tell you not to care, won’t you just come over anyway?"

The more she spoke, the more she felt wronged, eyes reddening again.

Blake Sinclair replied aggrievedly, "You said not to, I thought you didn’t want to see me."

Holly kicked his leg in frustration, "Don’t you know when girls say no, many times it means yes? That’s basic common sense!"

Blake Sinclair watched her pouty expression, heart softening completely, hurried to admit fault, "I’m too dumb, I’ll make up this matter for sure. In the future, when you say no, I’ll appear immediately, when you say go away, I’ll hug tighter, okay?"

He promised: "Never let you eat takeout again, I’ll cook three meals a day. Every night, I’ll hold you to sleep, when you’re mad, I’ll coax you till you’re appeased."

The grievances and awkwardness in Holly’s heart due to his promises, almost made her laugh, but she forced it down.

She held onto the last bit of composure, looked up at him, asked the nagging question in her heart, "Blake Sinclair, were you with Shannon Yarrow before?"