บททั้งหมดของ Love Among Thorns : บทที่ 31 - บทที่ 40

The second Amara slipped into an empty corner near the administration building, she pulled out her phone.Her fingers hesitated for a second over Rafael’s name.Would he think she was silly for calling so soon?She bit her lip — and then hit dial.He answered before the second ring.“Are you alright?” Rafael’s voice was low, sharp — almost deadly.Like he was already imagining the worst.Amara smiled, heart twisting at how fast he reacted.“I’m fine,” she said, her voice soft. “Just… wanted to let you know. Your bodyguard scared away a poor student who just wanted to say hi.”Silence.And then — a very faint growl.“Good,” Rafael muttered.Amara couldn’t help it — she laughed.“You’re impossible,” she teased. “I’m not going to get kidnapped by a guy offering directions.”“You could,” he said grimly. “You don’t know how predators hide. You don’t see what I see.”Her heart softened.“I’m safe,” she said, quieter now. “Thanks to you. Really.”There was a pause, and then Rafael’s voice ge

By the time she stepped through the front door of the new house — their house — Amara was exhausted.Her first full day of classes had gone… surprisingly okay.Aside from the awkward encounter with Tyler and the looming shadow of Marco never being more than ten feet away, she had managed to survive it.But now, all she wanted was to kick off her shoes, curl up on the couch, and maybe fall asleep in Rafael’s arms if he let her.The house was oddly quiet when she entered.Still and warm.Like it had been waiting for her.She dropped her bag by the door and called softly, “Rafael?”No answer.She frowned slightly… and that’s when she saw it.Set carefully on the hallway table:A simple bouquet of wildflowers — not the kind you bought from a store, but ones that looked picked by hand. Soft yellows, delicate whites, fresh green stems.And tucked into the blooms, a folded piece of thick cream paper. Her name written in Rafael’s unmistakable sharp, slanted handwriting.Heart pounding a littl

The morning light crept slowly into the kitchen, spilling golden puddles across the floor.Mrs. Holloway was already there, bustling quietly at the stove, the scent of coffee and something buttery filling the air. She was humming under her breath — a soft, almost sad little tune — and wiping down the counter with slow, careful strokes. Like she was trying to busy her hands… to quiet a mind full of worry.Rafael stood in the doorway, watching her for a moment.This woman, who had somehow wormed her way into their lives — into his life — without ever once asking for more than a place to serve. She had been patient, loyal, careful. She’d been a steady, motherly presence for Amara when the girl needed it most.And for that… Rafael owed her more than he could say.He cleared his throat, stepping into the room.Mrs. Holloway turned, smiling warmly — but Rafael, with his trained eyes, caught the slight tension around her mouth. The way her hands twitched nervously at the dish towel she was h

Amara noticed it the moment Rafael walked through the door.At first glance, he looked the same — suit jacket sharp, shoulders tense, hair still slightly mussed from the cold wind outside.But when his dark eyes found hers across the room, something softened.Something melted.He smiled — not the sharp, dangerous smirk she was used to, but something quieter, something real, something new.Amara set down the book she’d been pretending to read on the couch and tilted her head at him, curiosity prickling the back of her neck.“You’re home early,” she said lightly.Rafael shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it over the nearest chair — something he never did, always so precise, so controlled.He crossed the room in a few long strides, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her head, lingering there a moment longer than usual.“Missed you,” he murmured against her hair.Her cheeks flushed with warmth.She laughed softly, trying to shake off the strange weight hanging in the air. “You

Rafael stared at the wedding planning notebook Amara had spread out on the kitchen table like it was a live grenade.“Flowers,” he said flatly, reading the heading.He glanced at the dozens of pictures of delicate bouquets Amara had printed out.Tiny blue blossoms. Cascading white roses. Wispy green vines.He grimaced like he’d just been handed a weapon he didn’t know how to use.“What’s wrong with flowers from the grocery store?” he muttered under his breath.Amara let out a soft laugh, her eyes sparkling.She was perched across from him, legs tucked beneath her, looking so excited and happy he could practically feel it warming the room.“It’s our wedding, Rafa,” she said, reaching over and squeezing his hand. “It should be… special.”He grunted but flipped to the next page.And instantly regretted it.Now there were colors to choose. Themes. Arrangement styles.He was a man who made life-and-death decisions daily without blinking — but this?This was warfare on a whole new battlefie