At last, he carefully tucked Edwin in and returned to his bedroom, where Cecilia was still engrossed in her tasks.

Perched on the couch in her white robe, Cecilia was absorbed in a script.

Her slightly wet hair was draped down, and a fresh scent emanated from her.

She had just stepped out of a shower.

Mark eased the door shut, speaking softly.

“It's late. Are you still going over your lines?"

Cecilia lifted her gaze to him.

Delight flickered in her eyes, but she kept it subtle, not wanting to reveal too much.

Leaning against the doorframe, Mark undid the buttons on his shirt and grumbled, "I'm completely worn out!"

He had a talent for handling relationships with women.

Revealing vulnerability would often evoke women's sympathy, and

Cecilia, at the very least, felt a bit concerned.

However, she remained seated and refused to get up.

Mark sat beside her, wearing a gentle smile, and affectionately ruffled her hair.

"How did your day out shopping go?"

Cecilia shared some information about Rena with him, and without overthinking, she remarked, “Once Elva is born, Waylen and Rena will have two little girls."

Yet, they had no daughters of their own.

Despite his fatigue, Mark's smile remained. He reclined against the sofa, too weary to move much.

Nevertheless, he drew her into his embrace.

He took her hand, sliding it inside his shirt to feel the warmth of his skin.