Yang Fan's reaction was fast; he hastily withdrew his hand, cursing inwardly about the bad habit he developed while sleeping.
It had been four years since she had Guoguo, and she hadn't shared a bed so closely with a man.
It would have been one thing if he was a stranger, but ironically, the man lying beside her was someone who had helped her several times, a man capable of anything, a man who could inspire pure admiration in a woman.
More importantly, having been in Yang Fan's company for so long had provided her with the most stable and secure period of her life, feeling as if no matter what happened, a voice inside her always reassured her not to be afraid, that all would be well.
After a while, there was no sound, and both of them were silent. Tang Zimo turned off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. Perhaps only in darkness could she hide her restless heart.
