"What do you think prompted my question?" Mark replied with a smile.

A romantic mood filled the room, lightened only by the presence of their child.

Feeling the conversation was enough, Cecilia decided to leave. As she turned to walk away, Mark grasped her waist, drawing her into his embrace.

Their bodies pressed together closely.

The looks they exchanged were intense, private.

Cecilia, who had once been bold and free-spirited, would wrap her arms around Mark's neck each night, whispering sweetly. Now, as a mother of two, she became more reserved, sometimes finding even Mark's gaze too overwhelming.

Cecilia gripped Mark's arm tightly.

Beneath his shirt, his skin felt like a furnace.

A tremor ran through her as she pleaded, “Mark, let go of me."

“Feeling shy?" he murmured softly into her ear, his breath warm against her skin. Eventually, he released her.

Once free, Cecilia straightened her dress, urging in a soft voice, “Now, please, control yourself."

Initially, Mark just wanted to playfully tease her.

However, noticing the redness in her eyes, his playful mood faded, replaced by a tone of concern.

“Are you worried about me?" he whispered.

Expecting her to deny it, he was surprised when she nodded, her honesty clear.

"I'm scared you might just drop dead."

Her statement, though born of frustration, betrayed her deep concerns.

They had enjoyed tender moments recently, but his health was a constant worry for her.

Gently pulling her close, Mark said nothing. He tenderly wiped the tears from her eyes, acknowledging her unspoken fears.

"I'll be alright," he reassured her softly.