Silvia paused for a moment, caught off guard.
But when she remembered the worst of her injuries was at the back of her head—a place nearly impossible to reach—she stepped inside.
She grabbed a cushion and sat down in front of Kent.
With genuine warmth, she said, “Mr. Parsons, you really are a good person.”
Kent gave a low, dry chuckle. “Is that your way of friend-zoning me?”
“No, I mean it. I honestly think you’re a wonderful person,” Silvia corrected him.
In her whole life, she’d rarely met people she could truly call kind.
She used to think it was just bad luck, but after leaving Shipley, she realized she was suddenly surrounded by good people.
Shipley had promised to shield her from life’s storms, but in the end, he had been the storm itself.
Her lips twisted in a bitter smile.
A sharp sting interrupted her thoughts as the cold antiseptic touched her wound, forcing her to suck in a breath.
Kent frowned and his movements instantly became even gentler, bordering on tender.
The pain faded, but the living room grew quieter; the air between them subtly shifted, as if something unsaid lingered.
Breaking the silence, Silvia turned on the TV and lost herself in her favorite comedy show, bursting into laughter.
Kent clicked his tongue and held her head steady. “Keep squirming and you’ll have a cotton swab jammed in your wound.”
She stilled, stifling her laughter behind pursed lips.
No one said anything for a while. Then Kent’s voice came, soft but direct: “You still have feelings for Shipley, don’t you?”
“No, I don’t,” Silvia replied automatically, her attention still half on the TV, a smile playing on her lips.
But almost immediately, the smile faded as she realized what he’d asked.
“It’s just… it’s not easy to completely let go of someone you once cared about,” she admitted quietly. “I need time.”
At least thirteen more days, she thought.
Shipley had hurt her deeply, but she refused to carry that pain into her future marriage.
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