Chapter 845

I immediately turned to see Bruce on the bed, slowly opening his eyes. Thank goodness, he was finally awake. I called out, "Mr. Harold—" "Nance." His gaze, still dazed and fragile, landed on my face. His pale lips moved, interrupting me. I was momentarily stunned into silence. Then, he moved again. He suddenly sat up and wrapped his arms around me tightly. The familiar scent of cedar wood enveloped me, and his sturdy embrace felt as comforting as ever. I could hear his heartbeat, each thump resonating in my chest, accompanied by his desperate plea. "Thank goodness you're here. Please, baby. Don't leave me. Don't abandon me…" Bruce was begging me. Could this be a dream? He had always been aloof, proud, and unattainable. Even when we were together, he had been the dominant one in our relationship, the one I chased after. How could he use such a pitiful tone to plead with me not to leave him? But how could I possibly be dreaming about this? How could I dream the same thing twice?