Chapter 4

"That's not the correct way to draft a proposal."

Following Howard's instructions, I ended up modifying the document numerous times before his expression finally eased.

"Take a break now; we'll resume tomorrow."

He rose and went to the restroom. Just then, his unlocked phone on the table vibrated with an incoming message.

Intrigued, I glanced at it. Noticing Lance's name on the display, I hesitated before opening it.

[Lance: Uncle, how's Sienna doing? Is she really upset with me? Why hasn't she reached out to me lately?]

[Howard: Why should she contact you? If you don't care for her, set her free!]

[Lance: Uncle, she's been hanging onto me and won't let go. I'm just trying to prevent her from making a scene. Can you help control her at my engagement celebration? If Sienna doesn't cause any disturbances, I promise to concentrate on work afterward!]

Lance, a pampered individual, was pledging to work diligently just so I wouldn't "create problems"?

Looking further up the conversation, I saw him requesting money from Howard to cover the damage his fiancée, Maia, had caused to my residence. But Howard hadn't provided any funds. Instead, he had inquired about my hospital location.

So, Lance was aware of my injury and hospitalization, yet he hadn't visited me once.

Driven by a painful curiosity, I checked Lance's social media. There, I discovered that during my hospital stay, he had been occupied with Maia—visiting amusement parks, riding Ferris wheels, watching sunrises, trying on wedding attire, and even proposing to her.

However, when I looked at it from my account, I saw nothing but a blank page. It was evident he had blocked me.

My heart sank as I quietly reciprocated by blocking Lance. I also marked his messages on Howard's phone as unread. Without a word, I went upstairs to the guest room.

It would be untrue to say it didn't hurt.

Alone beneath the blankets, tears dampened my pillow as I fell into a troubled sleep. Even in my dreams, Lance taunted me, pointing and laughing.

"Sienna! You were just a fling. Why would I marry someone like you? A bedmate? An orphan? Do you think you're worthy?"

Then the scene changed with Howard and Maia standing together, then shoving me into a chasm.

I cried out as the dream shattered with the sound of thunder.

"Don't be afraid. I'm here," a voice comforted.

Desperately holding onto the figure before me, it took a moment for reality to sink in. I had awakened from the nightmare, and a thunderstorm was raging outside.

Howard was sitting beside me, his hand gently rubbing my back like one would soothe a frightened child. The fresh, woodsy aroma of cedar surrounded him, calming and reassuring, while the warmth of his touch made my heart race.

Since my parents' passing, no one had ever held me like this during a thunderstorm.

Even Lance—after five years of a secret relationship—never stayed the night. He'd always depart after we were finished, offering nothing but hollow words over the phone: "Sienna, I'll keep you company… from here."

But now, in this moment, I found myself selfishly yearning for Howard's warmth. His gentleness, so unlike the cold, businesslike demeanor he showed others, felt like a delicate treasure.

As my thoughts cleared, I recalled how he had rushed into my room at the first clap of thunder.

How did he know I was afraid of storms?

The longer we remained like this, the more my mind turned to mush. Without thinking, I blurted out, "Howard, would you marry me?"

Unfortunately, a loud crash of thunder drowned my voice, and his response was also muffled due to it, so I couldn't hear it clearly. But I thought I caught the word "okay."

When the storm subsided, he finally released me.

Just as I was contemplating how to ask him to stay longer, he reassured me in a soft voice, "Go to sleep. I'll stay right here."

He brought in a blanket and settled on the small sofa in the corner of the room.

Observing this six-foot-plus man squeezed into that tiny space, I felt a surge of warmth.

"It's fine, I can manage on my own—"

But before I could protest, he gently interrupted, saying, "Goodnight,"

Listening to his steady, even breathing, I drifted off. For the first time in five years, I felt truly at peace on a stormy night.