Mia Grant didn't seem to hear what he was saying, still sobbing quietly.
After finally getting into the room, Yates Donovan kicked the door shut and, in a few swift strides, laid her on the large bed.
The weight on her body vanished. Mia Grant froze, her gaze lifting in a daze, only to meet Yates Donovan's intensely worried eyes.
While she was still stunned, he leaned down and gently kissed her red, swollen eyes.
"How are you even more delicate when you're drunk? You can't even handle a single sentence without pulling this act on me?"
Yates Donovan pinched her cheek. When he saw her lips tremble as if she were about to cry again, he immediately surrendered. "Alright, alright, fine. I'll stop talking. I'll stop."
"Don't cry." He let out a little sigh, grabbing a tissue from the side to wipe her tears. "Look at these precious tears falling. If you're not heartbroken, I sure am."
"How about we talk for a bit? You can cry later. Just rest for a moment, okay?"
