Sweet Mischief’s Rollercoaster Romance novel Chapter 908

Mia, lacking any backbone, bolted away. Leo, with a firm grip on his sulking girlfriend, tugged her into the elevator. Anya wanted to slip away, but it seemed there was no escape.

As they stepped out of the elevator, Anya said, "Chad, I need to use the restroom. Why don’t you go ahead? Don’t wait for me."

Leo, still holding onto her, walked her straight to the restroom door. "Go ahead."

Anya bit her lip, "I don’t feel like it anymore."

She was guided to sit in the familiar passenger seat, her head lowered, mentally drafting an apology...

That evening, Mia rushed home before finishing her studies because the sound of her child crying at the prep center was piercing her heart. As night fell, Henry instinctively sought his mother. Without Mia, he refused food and milk, crying in the arms of anyone who tried to comfort him.

Andre, unfortunately, didn’t have a typical nine-to-five job. His schedule was unpredictable, sometimes requiring late nights or social events.

Henry, accustomed to having his parents around, cried endlessly when neither was nearby, prompting the family to call both Mia and Andre.

Hearing her baby’s cries over the phone, Mia couldn’t focus on a single reading comprehension question for half an hour.

She stood up, quickly gathered her books, and hurried home.

Once home, Henry, a tearful mess, launched himself at Mia with all his might. She quickly caught her little bundle, wiped his sweaty forehead, kissed his cheeks, and hugged his chubby body, feeling her heart melt.

Sure enough, within a minute in his mother’s arms, his cries subsided.

“Mommy, mommy.”

Mia, walking him around the living room, mused, “He doesn’t usually cry like this, what’s got him so upset today?”

Naomi replied, “Andre usually comes home early, and even if he doesn’t, Anya finds ways to make him happy. Today, with Andre not back, you absent, and Anya still not home... It’s strange. It’s already eight, where could she be?” Naomi’s voice laced with concern, “I should call her.”

Mia, cradling her crying son, recalled the afternoon's events when the two came looking for her, “Naomi, maybe wait a bit before calling.”

In their rented apartment, Anya, her clothes disheveled, hid under the covers, pouting at Leo.

Leo, fresh from the shower, sat on the bed, looking at his girlfriend wrapped up like a burrito, “Are you being silly?”

Anya clutched Leo’s blanket tighter, revealing just her face, “I can’t control you.”

Leo sighed, exasperated, “You could’ve slapped some sense into me.”

Anya softly complained, “You almost crushed my wrist. Should I slap you with my foot?”

Leo realized his girlfriend was fierce around him but shy in public, bold in private but timid outside.

He stood, and Anya quickly wrapped herself up tighter, moving away.

“Are you dressed?” Leo asked.

Anya nodded.

“Get up, I’ll take you home.”

Anya glanced around, “Chad, my shoes aren’t here.”

Leo, running a hand through his hair in frustration, fetched her sneakers from the doorway and handed them to her.