If it were anyone else, Sylvie Lockwood would never be this indecisive and muddled. But it just had to be Ryder Sharp, and her mind was a complete mess.
Her nerves, stretched taut all day, finally, at this moment—
snapped.
They had grown up together, so one could only imagine the depth of their bond.
If she didn't handle this well, how were they supposed to get along in the future? It wasn't like they could just never see each other again for the rest of their lives.
Just as her mind was a tangled mess...
Yancy Hale pushed the door open, a large bouquet of roses in his arms.
"Sis, Sharp—"
Ryder Sharp sat up straight, and the oppressive atmosphere vanished, allowing Sylvie Lockwood to finally breathe.
"Where did the flowers come from?" Sylvie Lockwood chugged a large glass of sparkling water.
FIZZ—
The bubbles prickled her heart, as if it were fizzing too. Only then did she realize her palms had grown clammy with nervous sweat.
