I felt my heart trembling, and I realized that I'd lost my strength to struggle too.
Suddenly, I remembered those two years.
In that cold apartment, Bruce had carefully tucked my feet into his arms and said that he wanted to use his body heat to drive away the long winter nights for me.
But in reality, it was just an excuse.
What he really wanted to do was to do it with me throughout the night.
And at this moment, just like when he did then, he seemed dangerous yet captivating.
Suddenly, my phone rang.
It was Cindy.
This hit me hard, and I was forced back to reality.
"Mr. Harold, Ms. Lane is calling," I reminded Bruce.
At the mention of Cindy, Bruce finally loosened his embrace.
Simultaneously, the light also miraculously turned back on, and its glaring light seemed to illuminate all the awkwardness and embarrassment lurking in the dark.
Cindy's sobbing voice came through the receiver, "Bruce, I'm not feeling well right now. Can you come pick me up?"
Bruce rubbed his temples and paused for a moment before saying, "Send me the address."
After hanging up the phone, Bruce hesitated. He looked like he wanted to say something but didn't know how to say it.
I met his gaze and frankly said, "You should go. Ms. Lane will be angry if you're late."
Bruce acted as if I'd said some absurd joke, and his gaze darkened.
I calmly asked, "Is there anything else, Mr. Harold?"
With a cold snort, Bruce quickly left.
Then, the place fell silent again, and only the sound of wind whistling through the dying branches could be heard.
…
The next morning, I unexpectedly received a call from a renovator saying that he wanted to make an appointment with me to install heaters in the office.
I was puzzled, but after confirming the time with the renovator, I suddenly recalled the scene from last night and immediately called Bruce.
On the other end of the line, Bruce calmly said, "It's too cold in Joddesdon and Saza. I don't want any delays in the project."
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