Loving The Better Brother novel Chapter 95

Chapter 95 Sight For Sore Eyes

WILLOW

“Are you okay?”

Tristan’s voice came from behind me, carrying that familiar warmth that always made something inside me soften.

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I had just woken up, and I was running my fingers through my hair in front of the mirror when he positioned himself behind me.

I looked at my reflection properly then. My skin was a little paler than usual, and there was a faint tiredness in my eyes that even good sleep could not completely hide, but overall—I looked fine.

“I’m okay,” I muttered honestly.

Behind me, Tristan stepped closer. His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me gently back against his chest.

I let out a small laugh as his breath tickled my sensitive neck. His chin rested lightly on my shoulder as he held me there.

“You don’t look okay,” he murmured.

I turned my head slightly, meeting his eyes through the mirror.

“I’m fine,” I insisted, though softer this time.

He raised a brow, appearing unconvinced.

“Can you handle going to work?” he asked.

I hesitated just for a second before I nodded.

“I need to,” I said quietly. “I have an important presentation today.”

He studied me for a moment longer before sighing softly.

“Stubborn,” he muttered under his breath.

I smiled faintly.

He always said that like it was both a complaint and a compliment.

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Chapter 95 Sight For Sore Eyes

I turned around in his arms, facing him fully now.

“I’ll be okay,” I repeated.

His hands remained on my waist, his hands caressing the skin through the cloth.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Just then, my thoughts drifted to the presentation and the designs.

My smile faded slightly.

I wasn’t completely designed with how the Zinnia turned out.

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The Dahlia was fine–more than fine, actually. I knew that one was strong. It carried the identity

of Fiorane perfectly. It was elegant, timeless, and exactly what it was supposed to be.

However, the Zinnia…

I pressed my lips together.

It was actually good. Kath had even said it was really pretty. However, that might be the problem. It was just pretty.

There was something missing–something I couldn’t quite name, something that made it feel incomplete.

I had not had the chance to refine it further. Yesterday had taken everything out of me.

Today, I had to present something I wasn’t completely confident in.

I sighed softly.

“I’ll manage somehow,” I muttered under my breath.

Tristan tilted his head slightly.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked.

I cleared my throat, realizing I had spoken out loud.

“Nothing,” I said quickly. “Just the presentation. I want to do well.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly.

“Want me to take it off your mind?” he asked casually. “Or do you want me to help you shower?”

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His hand came under my pajamas and then rubbed the bare skin.

“Tristan,” I whined, my face heating up instantly.

He laughed.

“I’m kidding,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender.

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help the small smile that formed on my lips.

“Drink your meds before showering,” he added, his tone softening again. “I’ll drive you to the office.”

I nodded.

***

By the time I arrived at the office, the lingering warmth from earlier had faded.

I was back in work mode.

I walked into the meeting room with my head held high and my posture straight.

Inside, the key members of the design team were already seated.

Rocco was there.

Andrew was there too.

My gaze lingered on him for a moment. He was wearing a neck brace.

So, the accident must be true.

Tristan had not lied.

A small part of me relaxed at that realization, though I quickly pushed the feeling aside.

I walked to the front of the room, setting up my presentation.

“Good morning,” I said.

The room greeted me back.

I took a steady breath, not wasting any time, and finally began.

I presented the new Dahlia first.

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I spoke about its design, its inspiration, and its alignment with Fiorane’s legacy.

And as I spoke, I felt really confident.

By the time I finished presenting the Dahlia, the response was just as I expected it.

Rocco clapped first while the others followed.

“It’s a good idea,” one of the managers said.

“Miss Florence actually encapsulated the theme of the Dahlia,” another added. “It’s very nice.”

“Yes,” someone else agreed. “She’s good. Mr. William must be happy about this.”

A small smile formed on my lips.

I dipped my head slightly.

“Thank you. I’ll relay it to Miss Florence.”

I clicked to the next slide.

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