Gillian quickly stepped back. "I've got it."
Realizing he had crossed a boundary, Miles softly apologized, "I'm sorry. I just panicked and overstepped."
He looked down at Gillian. "You're still exactly the same—always so clumsy and knocking things over."
There was a warm, undisguised fondness in his voice.
Gillian grabbed a napkin and dabbed at her dress. "I didn't realize the waiter had just filled the glass. Let me go to the restroom and clean up."
Miles nodded slightly.
The water had soaked entirely through her dress, the wet fabric clinging uncomfortably to her thighs.
The autumn night was bitterly cold, and Gillian had no choice but to fold thick wads of paper towels to place inside her dress, separating the damp fabric from her skin.
The moment she stepped out of the restroom, she ran straight into York. The lighting near the corridor was dim, and he stood perfectly still, as if he had been waiting specifically for her.
A suffocating wave of pure, icy dread rolled off the man in waves.
Seeing her walk out, York didn't say a single word. He simply shrugged off his trench coat and handed it to her.
"Don't catch a cold," he said, his voice terrifyingly flat.
With that, he turned on his heel and walked away.
Gillian stood frozen in place. His reaction was entirely too calm. A deep sense of foreboding rose in her chest—it felt exactly like the calm before the storm.
Frowning, she tightened her grip on the coat. It still carried the lingering heat of his body.
If York was here handing her his coat, it meant he had witnessed the spill. He had seen the entire interaction between her and Miles.
The realization sent a chill straight down her spine. The old York would have marched over and furiously demanded an explanation.
Unable to read him, she clutched the coat tightly and walked back to the table.
Seeing her return with a men's coat draped over her arm, Miles stared for a moment but chose not to ask.
If Gillian wanted to tell him, she would. It was a private matter, and he had enough respect to give her space.
Throughout the dinner, they discussed the future of the hospital. Their ideas aligned perfectly; the conversation flowed effortlessly.


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