Yet it was logical.

Tyrone hailed from a wealthy lineage, naturally he was multi-talented.

He was multilingual, proficient in ballroom dancing, a decent cook. He was disciplined, exercised regularly, opted for sugarless coffee, refrained from smoking, and seldom drank.

Sabrina felt herself pale in comparison.

She was average. She was adopted by the Blakely family by sheer Luck.

Without this stroke of fortune, she might never have crossed paths with him, let alone considered marriage.

Maybe they were simply incompatible.

Suddenly, Tyrone's footwork faltered, nearly causing Galilea to stumble. Luckily, his swift reflexes prevented a fall as he drew her into his embrace.

Galilea regained her rhythm.

She murmured, "Tyrone, are you okay?"

He looked down and muttered, "I'm fine.”

Glancing back at the corner, he wanted to confirm he wasn't hallucinating. Yes, it was indeed Sabrina.

What brought her here?

Had she been here long?

“Ease up, Tyrone," Galilea cautioned.

In response, Tyrone said nothing and fixed his gaze to the corner.

Onlookers presumed they were engaged in playful banter.

Their interactive dance could easily be mistaken for flirtation.

Sabrina nostalgically thought of the time when she and Tyrone had danced. His kiss had landed on her flushed cheek, and in a heartbeat, they had been so close.

If Galilea hadn't called, they might have experienced a wonderful night.