The room was dimly lit by the bedside lamp. Lying on my bed was Ronald, face pale, eyes shut, fingers blindly feeling for his phone by the edge of the mattress.
I ended the call, and the ringing stopped.
I walked over, staring at his handsome face in disbelief.
"Ronald, why are you sleeping in my bed?"
The man who used to despise me was now comfortably lying in my room, on my bed? Unreal.
Ronald flinched slightly and slowly opened his eyes. His dark gaze was heavy and quiet as it locked on me.
He looked like he had just woken up, but the exhaustion on his face was obvious. His voice was low and raspy.
"You’re staying here again?"
"Of course not," I told him right away.
He shut his eyes again, clearly worn out. "This villa’s mine. This room’s mine. You’re not li
