The next day, unable to resist, she knocked on Waylen's bedroom door. She needed answers...

The door swung open.

There stood Waylen, expressionless and scantily clad.

His upper body was bare and only a bath towel was wrapped around his lower body.

Droplets of water clung to the tips of his hair, cascading along the sharp contours of his face, eventually vanishing into the bath towel just below his abdomen, evaporating from the heat.

Rena's throat tightened.

Waylen dried his hair with a towel and asked nonchalantly, “Aren't we going to an appointment later? Shouldn't you be getting ready?"

Though he spoke casually, he stepped aside to let her in.

Rena's back pressed against the door.

Waylen reached for his cigarette case at the end of the bed, pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

As wisps of smoke spiraled upwards, he inquired lightly, "Is there something you want to tell me?"

Rena hesitated for a moment before asking softly, "Have you regained your memory?"

Waylen took a deep drag on the cigarette and replied, "Yes, certain things have come back tome."

Her heart raced.

He had regained some of his memories...

She longed to ask him what he remembered but the words remained trapped within her. It felt as though he was pursuing her, yet also treating her politely as his ex-wife.

His ability to manipulate emotions was astounding.

Neither of them spoke further. Waylen simply observed her as he leisurely finished his cigarette.

Finally, he approached her, his voice a gentle whisper, "Let's take all the time we need."

Her lips quivered with emotion.

Waylen tenderly caressed her lips, expressing his longing, "| desire you deeply but | understand your apprehension. I'll treat you right and with utmost care. Let's proceed slowly this time, alright?”

With tears in her eyes, Rena looked up...