Later that night, alone in her apartment, Sandra reread the last text Fergus had sent: Fergus: “Dinner tonight remember? Can't wait to see your beautiful face, my fantasy” She smiled and typed back—“ 7p.m. I’ll be there.” At dinner, the restaurant was sleek and quiet—clearly chosen for its privacy. Fergus stood as she entered, his dark suit crisp, his eyes softening when they met hers. “You came,” he said. “I said I’d think about it.” “And you thought wisely,” he smiled as he teased. They shared stories, laughter flowing more easily than Sandra expected. She noticed how Fergus listened, not just with his ears, but with his whole presence. When he talked about his family’s business and the pressure to always be perfect, she saw the cracks behind his charm. “I’ve been told I’m too guarded,” he said, whirling his glass of wine. “How do you mean?” Sandra asked. “That I don’t let people in my life.” He replied her. “I get,” Sandra replied. “I used to think being alone would keep
Dernière mise à jour : 2025-04-10 Read More