I Wait For You My Love

The night following a lengthy separation was filled with unrestrained passion.

After slipping in and out of awareness multiple times during lovemaking, Natalie Simpson finally registered the familiar sound of water running in the bathroom.

Resting against the pillow, she felt completely drained, yet the moment the man stepped out, she gathered all her remaining energy and pushed herself upright.

Connor Hughes emerged shirtless, droplets still trailing from his damp hair. His skin, unusually smooth for a man, seemed to radiate an almost mesmerizing allure that was impossible to overlook.

He reached for a folder, placed it on the nightstand, and nudged it toward her.

"Contract terminated."

His words struck like an icy gust, leaving her frozen in place.

Her gaze landed on the bold heading—Sponsorship Agreement—printed across the document. A tremor ran through her as she fought to keep her tone composed.

"There are still three months left. Can't you wait a little longer?"

She had always known this day would arrive. After so many years by his side, it was inevitable. Yet, she had clung to the hope—just a little more time, just a little longer—to remain with him.

At least not now, when she had just been told she had only six months left.

The heavy silence between them gave her the clearest, most devastating answer.

"It was just a joke." Natalie lifted her shoulders in a casual shrug, trying to play it off. "Honestly, I've been meaning to end this for a while. My family's been urging me to settle down, and they've already lined up blind dates for next week. I was actually wondering how to bring it up to you."

She forced out a laugh, as if the situation was nothing more than a trivial matter.

Connor, midway through drying his hair, paused, his dark eyes flickering toward her. "You're going on blind dates?"

Natalie nodded, her expression giving the impression that it was the most natural thing in the world. "After all, I can't be with you forever; I need to settle down."

Given her fragile health condition, dreaming of a future with him was out of the question. All she wanted was to leave without making a scene.

Connor's eyes darkened. Irritated, he tossed the towel aside, pulled on his clothes hastily, and left his hair still damp.

"Dean will take care of the rest."

His voice was devoid of warmth, treating her less like a partner and more like an object he had lost interest in.

A sharp ache twisted in her chest. In that instant, every lingering thought she had held onto dissolved. She no longer harbored any illusions.