No Second Baby No You Only Divorce (Scarlett and Vincent) novel Chapter 633

She knew it—she was falling for him all over again.

How could she not feel something for a Damian like this?

After gently breathing warmth onto Scarlett's chilled hands, Damian wrapped them firmly between his own. He remained crouched in front of her wheelchair, the soft winter light spilling over him, casting a gentle golden glow around his frame.

Tilting his head up to meet her eyes, Damian asked in a low, warm voice, "Wanna build a snowman?"

Scarlett nodded, her expression bright with hope.

"Yes," she replied.

A smile touched his lips. "Alright, let's go."

He wheeled her a short distance across the yard, stopping beside a thick hedge where the snow had gathered deep and untouched. After locking the wheels, he nodded toward the spot. "There's plenty here. This should work."

"Okay," Scarlett agreed softly.

Leaning forward slightly, she reached out with her now-warmed hands and touched the cold, powdery snow. A sharp sting spread through her fingers, but inside, her heart felt utterly warm. She began gathering snow into a mound, carefully shaping the base of a snowman.

Damian stepped to the side and pulled out his phone, lifting it to capture the moment.

"Sweetheart, turn your face toward me just a little," he said, shifting angles to get a better shot.

Scarlett glanced over, noticing he was recording her. Instantly, her cheeks flushed. She frowned playfully. "Damian, don't film me—I'm not photogenic at all."

She even made a light grab for his phone.

Seeing her reach for it, Damian quickly held the device up out of her reach. With his other hand, he caught her cold fingers, holding them gently. His eyes held a sincere, tender warmth as he said, "You look beautiful. I want to remember you exactly like this."

Trapped in his grasp, Scarlett tried to pull back, but he held her gently yet firmly.

Embarrassment washed over her. "Damian, let go."

Seeing how flushed she'd become, he decided not to tease her further and released her hand.

"Alright, if you really don't like it, I'll stop."

He tucked his phone back into his coat pocket and crouched down again beside her wheelchair, joining her in shaping the snowman. But before they could finish, Damian couldn't resist—he scooped a handful of snow and lightly tossed it toward her face.

Scarlett gasped, then laughed, immediately scooping some snow herself and throwing it back at him.

What began as playful flurries soon turned into a full-blown snow fight, each trying to dust snow down the other's collar.

A quiet, private sense of pride warmed her from within.

She even caught herself imagining, just for a moment, what it might be like to introduce him to her friends and family someday—someone she'd genuinely be proud to have by her side.

It struck her then how different this felt. Vincent, throughout all their years of marriage, had only ever met her family in passing, and never really shared moments like this.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice Damian had finished taking pictures. Seeing her distracted, he leaned down, pressed his cheek lightly against hers, aimed the phone toward them, and captured their first selfie together.

In the photo, Scarlett looked toward the lens with slightly surprised eyes, while Damian's face was softened by a deep, contented smile—as though he'd just discovered something truly precious.

Almost as soon as the shutter clicked, he slipped the phone back into his pocket, giving her no chance to protest.

"Damian, you..." Scarlett began, not even sure what to say, feeling that same familiar fluster returning.

But then Damian carefully unwrapped the scarf from the snowman. He first placed it around his own neck, letting his warmth seep into the fabric, before gently removing it and wrapping it around Scarlett's shoulders.

She didn't resist. In fact, she dipped her head slightly to make it easier for him.

Once the scarf was settled, she lifted her gaze to meet his. Damian was already looking back, his eyes slightly red from the cold but filled with a quiet, steady warmth.

They were close now—close enough to feel the soft cloud of each other's breath in the crisp winter air.