Colton pushed Freyja’s hand away, tossed his coat aside, and walked toward the bathroom.
Freyja sat stiffly on the bed, pursed her lips, listened to the sound of running water coming from inside the bathroom, and could not help but tighten her grip on the blanket.
‘Sure enough, his hatred for me hasn’t changed at all. Then what did he mean when he gave me the necklace and kissed me three years ago?’
As Colton walked out of the bathroom in a bathrobe, water vapor encircled him, and the water droplets that had not been wiped rolled down his beating neck.
He dried his hair with a towel and turned to look at Freyja.
Freyja leaned against the head of the bed with her legs bent and an aggrieved expression as if she had been wronged.
‘Does she feel wronged?
‘Pfft, she’s just pretending when I’m around.’
He placed the towel on the countertop, walked over, and stood beside the bed. “Aren’t you going to take a shower?”
She returned to her senses and did not look at him. “No.”
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