Three Years Later, He Came Back Begging novel Chapter 342

Before Lawrence could truly savor the soft warmth of her palm, the touch vanished. Only the phantom trace of her fingertips brushing against his jaw remained.

Bonnie stepped back instantly, taking her familiar, subtle scent with her. It felt as if the air had been vacuumed from the room.

A suffocating wave of despair crashed over Lawrence, filling the hollow space in his chest with stinging salt, leaving him raw and aching.

The fragile bridge they had just managed to build was shattered, plunging them right back into a sea of awkwardness and unspoken barriers. Panic gripped him.

He forced his eyes open and saw Bonnie pretending to be entirely engrossed in rearranging a stack of books she had already perfectly aligned. She reached up, nervously tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Her earlobe was flushed red. The sight twisted something painfully tight in his chest.

He had made her uncomfortable.

Swallowing his desperate reluctance to leave her and this cozy little apartment, Lawrence abruptly stood up. He glanced out the window, forcing a casual tone. "The wind is picking up. Looks like rain. If you don't need anything else, I should head out. You've had a long day. Get some rest."

"Mhm," Bonnie hummed noncommittally, her eyes never leaving the books.

Lawrence walked over to the balcony to check on June. He hated to leave the little puppy, but he couldn't just shamelessly overstay his welcome.

The puppy, oblivious to the tension, pawed at the playpen, begging for attention. Lawrence bent down to give him a quick scratch behind the ears, then said his final goodbyes to Bonnie.

She didn't walk him to the door. When the heavy thud of the door closing echoed through the apartment, followed by the electronic beep of the smart lock engaging, she let out a long, shaky breath.

Abandoning the books, she walked out to the balcony, scooped June into her arms, and curled up in the wicker chair, staring blankly at the street below.

The late afternoon, heavy with the promise of rain, was a mix of stillness and chaos.

The wind rustled through the sycamore trees. From her second-floor balcony, she had a perfect view of the narrow street.

Lawrence's car was parked right beneath the sprawling sycamore. A few stray leaves had landed on the hood.

Bonnie watched as he reached his car, stopped, and braced his hands on his hips. After a long moment, he pulled off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Suddenly, he slapped the palm of his hand hard against his own forehead and leaned his weight against the car door. Even from behind, his crushing frustration was palpable.

Bonnie let out a soft, humorless laugh, her lips pressing into a tight line. She looked down, absentmindedly stroking June's fur, lost in her own chaotic thoughts.

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