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Chapter 97 : A distinct type of dream

Penulis: Samuel Chikwado
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-09-24 20:27:48

When Annabel got out of the car, the cool night air pricked her skin. She had a sweet drowsiness that clung to her and her limbs felt heavy.

Fred's hand was there to steady her arm as she staggered a little still half asleep.

“You alright?” he asked

“Yes,” she said in a quiet whisper. “I'm just exhausted.”

As they made their way to the entrance of their building, he continued to place a soft hand on her back.

In addition to the familiar smell of the hallway—a blend of clean air and old brick—the quiet hum of the city was a faraway lullaby.

After a gentle chime, the elevator doors opened and they entered. There was a blanket-like quietness throughout the ascent.

She was already on her way to the couch when the doors opened.

“Annabel,” Fred called.

She sank onto the soft cushions, barely paying attention to his voice. Her bag fell to the ground from her lap.

The last thing she remembered was how nice the couch felt and the rest of the world was a cozy gentle blur.

Fred watched
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    Annabel opened her eyes a little. There was a glimmer of moonlight to break the darkness of the room. She blinked and as her eyesight gradually improved a face emerged. Fred. With his face a landscape of exquisite sharp shadows, he stood inches away from her. His wide eyes conveyed a mixture of surprise and an unidentified emotion. A humming and stretching silence pervaded the air. Her thoughts were a sleepy haze as she simply gazed at him. Then he drew back after a long moment. He stood up straight making slow methodical movements as he backed away. He made a nervous motion she recognized—running a hand through his hair. “I just wanted to wipe something off your face.” He said awkwardly.His voice was a low murmur.With the last remnants of sleep clinging to her, Annabel rubbed her eyes. Her head felt hazy. As she surveyed her room, the specifics gradually returned to her attention. The pictures, the bookshelf and the easel. The mattress had been pulled up to her chin as she

  • The CEO'S SECRET BRIDE    Chapter 97 : A distinct type of dream

    When Annabel got out of the car, the cool night air pricked her skin. She had a sweet drowsiness that clung to her and her limbs felt heavy. Fred's hand was there to steady her arm as she staggered a little still half asleep. “You alright?” he asked “Yes,” she said in a quiet whisper. “I'm just exhausted.”As they made their way to the entrance of their building, he continued to place a soft hand on her back.In addition to the familiar smell of the hallway—a blend of clean air and old brick—the quiet hum of the city was a faraway lullaby. After a gentle chime, the elevator doors opened and they entered. There was a blanket-like quietness throughout the ascent. She was already on her way to the couch when the doors opened. “Annabel,” Fred called. She sank onto the soft cushions, barely paying attention to his voice. Her bag fell to the ground from her lap. The last thing she remembered was how nice the couch felt and the rest of the world was a cozy gentle blur. Fred watched

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