Does Tristan Really Have Some Hidden Ailment?!

An hour-long cold shower allowed Tristan to deeply understand the meaning of self-inflicted suffering. After stepping out of the bathroom, he saw Cynthia peacefully asleep on the bed. A hint of a smile involuntarily appeared on his lips. "Truly heartless."

Although he said so, his gaze towards Cynthia was filled with indulgence and pampering. After changing into a fresh set of clothes, he lay back on the bed, extending his arm to carefully pull Cynthia into his embrace. Leaning down slightly, he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead with a reverent posture, as if wanting to infuse all his tenderness into that moment.

Despite not making any substantial progress, being able to hold her in his arms and sleep together was already a significant step for Tristan.

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On the other side, the help stood in front of Old Mrs. Ford and recounted the situation in detail.

"So, they didn't quarrel over this?" Old Mrs. Ford asked.