Tyrone felt a leap in his heart as he met her steady gaze, his thoughts scattering, leaving him momentarily at a loss.

"Sabrina. . he stammered, guilt in his voice. His thumb rubbed unconsciously against his sleeve as he nervously awaited her judgment.

With her arms crossed, Sabrina elegantly lifted the bead curtain with one hand, taking a few unhurried steps forward. She scrutinized Tyrone and asked, “Here on business, are you? Conveniently dining with a client?"

Tyrone's lips tightened. "So, you've figured it out?"

Did she intentionally say those words just now?

“Damon's your friend. Have you been following me lately?" Sabrina inquired.

Her earlier suspicions about Damon had been appeased by Bettie's words, only to be reignited when Tyrone appeared at the airport.

She doubted him because it was clear that Tyrone didn't seem like he had just gotten to Norwen that day.

And Damon's response to her attempts at affection seemed off. Something was wrong.

"Yes," Tyrone confessed, his voice low, as he took a deep breath.

Moving closer, his eyes alight with emotion, he said, "Sabrina, I can't bear being apart from you, but I'm scared of upsetting you by showing up. I've been watching from a distance..."

So, the presence she had sensed was always him.

Sabrina's head dropped.

He had followed her to such a distant country without intruding for so long.

Once, she would have found it touching.

Now, she doubted his motives.

Even though he professed his love, it was too late.

"Tyrone, we're divorced. We need to lead separate lives. Your actions are pointless."

"It's not your place to decide if it's pointless. You don't want to remarry, and I don't expect forgiveness. I just want to see you every day, content just to see you happy."

Tyrone had a way with words, and it was hard to tell their sincerity.