By the time she woke up, it was already nine in the evening.

She rushed back to her house.

Her son had gone to bed early that day.

She realized she hadn't had the chance to clean up in the past couple of days. She felt unkempt and dirty.

Choosing not to disturb her child, she went to take a shower first.

Upon opening the bedroom door, she encountered Isaac.

He had just finished his shower.

Wrapped in a white bathrobe that brought out his commanding, upright frame, with the collar slightly unbuttoned, he showed a hint of his muscular chest. Some of his damp hair rested on his eyebrows, softening his appearance.

Their eyes met.

Camila averted her gaze.

"Sorry," she whispered.

Nervously, she fiddled with the hem of her garment.

A sense of unease washed over her, making it hard for her to even meet his gaze.

All she managed was to shy away from his look.

Isaac, finished drying his hair with a towel, walked towards her.

His tall frame gradually enveloped her more delicate one.

“Look at me," he urged gently.

His voice, deep and captivating, echoed in the room.

Standing against the door, Camila felt a chill on her back.

Gradually, she lifted her head.