Every touch and glance was filled with a gentle restraint.

Beneath the soft glow of the room, she traced the contours of his face, eyes brimming with emotion. Then the world around them dissolving into the background.

For Mark, this night was a warm embrace.

As the first light of dawn peeked through, warmth spread across Mark's face.

He instinctively reached out for the familiar presence beside him, only to find emptiness.

Shifting in his bed, the quilt cascaded down, unveiling his sculpted physique.

Beside him, a delicately colored card caught his eye.

Picking it up, Mark couldn't suppress a smile as he read, “Uncle Mark, I've left for my shoot in Warsew.

I've ordered breakfast for you. Once you're done, head back to the hospital. You're probably on the doctor's naughty List by now-"

Uncle Mark—

The endearment tugged at his heartstrings.

Shaking off his nostalgia, he swiftly dressed in last night's attire.

Upon exiting the bedroom, he was met with a startled servant, who had just begun her morning shift.

Her eyes widened in surprise upon seeing him.

“Mr. Evans, shouldn't you be in the hospital?"

Her gaze flitted to an overturned wine bottle on the sofa, realization dawning.

Flushing a deep red, she attempted to recompose herself.

Unfazed, Mark remarked, "I'll be heading back shortly. Cecilia is away in Warsew for a few days, so there's no need for her meals."

Finishing his breakfast with an air of elegance, he bid the servant farewell.

She watched, a mix of concern and curiosity, as he left the apartment.