Divorce me I'm done serving you (Ayla) novel Chapter 754

Ayla pressed her hand to her forehead.

They were like two people who had no idea how to be in a relationship, even after living together for eight months.

She suddenly felt like both of them had been incredibly clueless.

And then she really, genuinely wanted to laugh.

And she laughed.

Draven looked at her—warm, puzzled. "What is it?"

"Mr. Storm, you have no idea how to be in a relationship. Study up."

"Noted. I'll work on it." Draven knew it. Shaped by a difficult childhood, he'd learned to suppress and endure. He wasn't good at expressing himself. He didn't know how to nurture intimacy. He could keep up appearances perfectly, but when it came to truly getting close to Ayla's heart, he'd barely scratched the surface.

After dinner, Fabiola—contrary to how she'd performed in private—didn't give the brother-in-law a hard time. She left without fanfare.

So, Draven and Ayla drove back to the complex together.

The car cut through the evening traffic. Draven was driving, Ayla sat in the passenger seat, and the cabin between them was quiet.

Ayla watched the lights and the familiar skyline pass outside the window. It felt like slipping back into a time before the breakup, a steady warmth rising somewhere deep inside her.

But they weren't boyfriend and girlfriend yet, so privately, both of them were holding back.

For instance, during Ayla's recovery in Zheron—aside from those first two nights when Draven had slipped in and they'd simply slept beside each other, they'd kept their distance after that.

Then, there was the kiss when she left Zheron, after she'd given him something close to a real answer.

She'd been intimate with this man. And now, alone together, keeping that restrained distance—it felt strangely, thrillingly new.

The car didn't pull into the underground garage below Ayla's building. It stopped at Building 5.

This was the full-floor unit—more than 6,500 square feet. Ayla had looked at the renovation plans once and never revisited them. Draven had handled everything. This was the first time she'd actually been here.

Draven got out and started to walk around to open her door, but Ayla had already stepped out.

They nearly walked right into each other. Ayla looked up into his steady gaze and felt an unexpected flutter. "You lead the way."

Draven gave a quiet laugh. "Sure."

He walked ahead. Ayla followed a step behind. With her eyes off him, she could breathe again—and then shamelessly stare at his back all she wanted.

Six foot three, perfectly built. From any angle, he was still unbearably good-looking.

Draven felt her eyes on him.

Their gazes met.

They were with the babies for almost an hour before the nannies took over.

The nannies knew better than to wander—the space was large, and the nursery was separated from the main suite. Draven valued privacy. No one was going to interrupt.

Draven took her hand and led her to the main bedroom.

The main suite was twice the size of Ayla's own. She was exploring when Draven poured her a glass of warm water in the sitting area and pulled a bottle of ice water from the fridge for himself. He took a long drink. Ayla had just walked in, and she found herself looking at him—the strong line of his throat, the watch on his wrist reading nearly 10 p.m. He asked, "Staying the night?"

His voice had gone slightly rough. He still had the cold water bottle in his hand, a faint chill rising from it. His grip looked deliberate, the tendons on the back of his hand standing out in sharp relief.

Ayla said nothing. Just looked at him.

The quiet sitting room felt ten degrees hotter all of a sudden.

Draven didn't wait for an answer. He set down his water, picked up the warm glass he'd poured for her, and walked toward her, one step at a time.

With every step closer, something in Ayla's chest jumped.