“Where's Vera?"

“Roscoe took her home."

Waylen beckoned Rena closer, her shy demeanor noted and respected.

A foundation of trust had grown between them, nurtured by Waylen's self-control and her own burgeoning feelings. Nestling into his embrace, she settled obediently.

Curled within his arms, she inquired curiously, “Why did Roscoe take her away?"

A tender smile curved Waylen's lips as he tenderly combed Rena's hair, a cascade of brown strands that had graced his pillow many times before.

“Roscoe will be her future husband." Future husband?

The concept danced on Rena's lips as her slender fingers played with the buttons on Waylen's pajamas. With a hushed voice, she questioned, “How can you know what the future holds?"

Waylen's grasp tightened around her hand, his gaze delving deep into her eyes.

A subtle blush graced her cheeks, her initial impulse to withdraw her hand thwarted by Waylen‘s gentle restraint.

As Rena nestled against his shoulder, her delicate arms encircling his neck, a whisper escaped her lips, laden with vulnerability.

“Waylen, why do I sometimes feel Like you'll suddenly disappear?”

A pang of sorrow tugged at Waylen's heart.

He longed to whisk Rena, now 20, away, as if he could possess two versions of her.

One mature and refined.

The other youthful and naive.

The very notion was almost unbearable to contemplate. His head dipped, lips pressing against her forehead, a murmur escaping his lips.

"We'll be together, Rena. Trust me."

Rena lifted her head gently from his embrace, sunlight streaming through the window and casting a warm glow upon her youthful countenance.

Her complexion was flawless, her brows elegantly arched, and her chestnut locks cascaded gracefully down her waist, framing her enticing figure.

Her eyes, deep and bright like those of a newborn animal, held a tremor as she spoke with a quivering voice.

“I trust you."