THE BOOKSTORE in Trudor Square always runs out of stock of popular books. Some bookworms marched outside the establishment with disappointment written all over their faces. Some teenagers scan the bookshelves, eager to find that book they saw on social media. Some businessmen search for travel books to pass the time. Some also search for discounts and bundles to save money.

But there’s this certain woman who’s currently scanning the books on the shelves and had been asking the staff if they have a book about fortune-telling or strings of fate or anything like those categories she mentioned.

To those who cared to notice, there’s a man who’s hovering over the clueless woman like a surveillance drone. But because he’s skilled at following people or suspects, nobody noticed the odd behavior.

“I’ll take care of this,” Philip Mayers approached motioned for the staff to leave Maine Bismarck alone. The woman frowned at his sudden appearance.

“Before you complain,” he raised his hands to elaborate his noble intentions. “I happened to know this old library that contains Sutton City archives. Maybe, you’ll find some relevant information there?”

Maine gathered her arms to her chest and surveyed him with almost an analytical gaze. Was it analytical or judgmental?

“Oh, do explain why you’re here?”

“I happened to live here.”

“You can afford a house in Trudor Square?”

Philip Mayers hissed. He hated bragging but it seems like he has no choice but to tell her that he came from a family of politicians in the Western Isles and that he was blue-blooded and is running away from his obligation as the heir to an Earldom when his father kicks the bucket.

Or should he tell her that he’s Viscount Lurthon of Western Isles?

But he can’t just tell her those. She will be thoroughly confused as to why he, a future Earl in the Western Isles, decided to be a detective in a foreign country.

“I can afford the house through private commissions for finding important people. Go figure out the rest.”

Maine lowered her hands to her sides, convinced by that lie. “Do you happen to be here by chance?”

By chance? If she meant walking around Trudor Square in the hopes of meeting a woman whom he kissed senseless months ago, then he happened to be here by chance.

“Yes, actually, I’ve been searching for a book for... travels.”

He cursed in his thoughts for giving Maine that lie. Why did he think of travel books? He doesn’t even travel!

She regarded him with a quizzical frown, the blue of her eyes gleaming with interest. “Good for you.” She looked down at her wristwatch as she lifted the arm to her midriff. “I need to go back.”

Before Maine could step away, Philip dragged the woman to the darkest, most secluded part of the bookstore.

“Where are you taking me?!” She struggled to be free from his grasp. When they reached the dark corner of the store, he finally released her.”

What has gotten into him? He’s not like this before. He’s an officer, for crying out loud! He shouldn’t do this to a civilian, especially to a woman.

“Sorry. I-I’m just...”

Maine pushed him away, her ears turning red with anger. “Are you crazy?!”

Maybe, he is.

Her lips are partially opened as she chased her breath like she just ran a marathon. Philip shook his head and tried to apologize but Maine’s eyes traveled to his lips.

There is it again. That electrifying energy between them. That connection he can’t seem to fathom.

This is why he’d been hoping to see her again. Why is he reacting weirdly to her presence? To her gaze? To those ripe, plump kissers of hers that are specifically made for sinful ravishing?

He’s physically attracted to the brat, that’s why.

Maine gasped when Philip pressed her back gently on the shelf. “May I kiss you?”

Her heart galloped inside her ribs, followed by the intense awareness of her body to his masculinity. She gulped.

.

“WHAT HAPPENED to you, Maine?”

Max gathered Erin into his arms and carried his daughter to the doorway where Maine is. Some of Maine’s hair sprang free from her ponytail and her lip gloss is scattered around her swollen lips.

The urge to scream and ask questions rose from his brotherly instincts rose from his being. But Maximillian doesn’t need further questions, for he knew who did such a thing to Maine. And by looking at his sister’s reaction, it looked like she consented to it and is wondering what the hell did she just do.

He’ll not interfere with Maine’s fate. If her fate directs her to the future with Philip, then Max will let it happen. As Erin told him, Philip is a decent man who will eventually make Maine happy.

But he’s tempted to advise his sister to not allow Philip some liberties while she’s still exploring her feelings and sensualities.

But that will make Maine suspicious. Max is known to be an overprotective brute to her. If he happened to be too cool-headed about Maine’s love life, then his sister will figure out that he knew something about her future.

It might interfere with fate again.

He pressed his mouth shut when Maine ran upstairs while covering her face. “I don’t want to talk about it!”

Erin giggled at Maine’s running form. It seems like Erin thought that her favorite aunt wanted to play hide and seek with her.

“No, Erin. Aunt Maine is confused right now. Maybe next time, sweetie.” He kissed the top of Erin’s head and gently nuzzled his nose on its chubby cheeks. “It’s time to get Mommy’s box. Let’s see what’s inside of it, how about that?”

He raised Erin mid-air and the baby’s laughter echoed in the halls.

.

.

.

Max,

I can’t quite explain how much it hurts. It hurts me to write this letter because I knew that a time would come when I’ll disappear, and you’ll spend a decade without me in your arms. I asked myself how to fill that major gap in time. We have tons of pictures together, tons of videos of unforgettable days. Plenty of nights fulfilled with the passion that I longed and yearned for each time we were apart.

I’ve written several letters here while pondering that. This idea is perfect, don’t you think? You can open them whenever you feel like you’re losing hope, or if you feel like everything feels too much to bear...or if you feel my absence in our bed. I know how much you love me, Max, and I know that a thousand letters a day will never be enough to fulfill the longing and yearning, but I wanted to connect with you even when we’re apart.

I’m sorry that I can only write a few. I never thought that we will run out of time so soon. I hope that these letters will give you something to look forward to. Something to hold on to whenever your heart aches. I know it hurts, love. I can feel it, too.

I placed every kiss on every letter. I hope that they’re enough to compensate for those times when you seek my kisses or my warmth. If ever I regret something these past two years, then it is the fact that I slept while you were holding me.

I wished I stayed awake and spent those times with you, kissing you and holding you until our time ran out.

Wait for me, Max. I’ll make up for the lost time, I promise. We’ll spend our eternities together. We’ll spend the days with Erin and our children. We’ll fill our homes with nothing but happiness for us.

I’ll make all of these come true, Max. Just wait for me. Please wait for me.

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