Yet, hearing Aziel speak the truth was difficult for her to accept. It felt like a tightness constricting her chest.

Before Sarah could utter a word, Aziel quietly walked away. It was a gesture both dignified and considerate toward Sarah. Even Ariana, an outsider, found herself speechless in the wake of his thoughtful departure.

The atmosphere grew heavy, and Sarah sank into the sofa, her spirits dampened.

She observed Aziel bustling around the room, tidying up with purpose.

Typically, Sarah's space was a bit disheveled when she was preoccupied—melody drafts scattered across the floor, unwashed clothes haphazardly strewn about.

However, Aziel meticulously gathered each sheet of paper beside the piano, placing them neatly on the shelf. None of them were discarded.

He returned all the instruments to their rightful places. Sarah wanted to assist in cleaning, but Aziel insisted otherwise. With gentle insistence, he urged her back onto the sofa. Then, he disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a small cake and ice-cold drinks.

"It's been such a long time since you've seen each other. I'm sure you have plenty to talk about. I'll take care of these tasks alone. You don't need to worry about me,"

Aziel said, placing a fork on the table for Sarah. He played the role of a gracious host, acknowledging Ariana with a friendly greeting.

Afterwards, Aziel made his way to the balcony to wash Sarah's clothes.

“What a wonderful partner!" Ariana exclaimed.

"Clearly, Aziel adores you so much.

He's treating you like his own daughter,” she added, smiling at Sarah.

“Don't tease me," Sarah replied, feeling a bit bashful. But her expression suddenly shifted, and she leaped off the sofa, hurrying towards Aziel.

"I'll wash them myself.

You don't have to do it."

Sarah took the bra from Aziel, her face turning red.

Aziel didn't think it was a big deal. He spoke gently.

"It's alright, I'll finish it quickly.

If you want to wash it yourself, you'll have to toss it into the washing machine.