Three Years Forgotten, Why Go Crazy When I Say Goodbye? novel Chapter 618

After that, Julian Sinclair vanished from Willow’s life entirely.

The dark clouds that had suffocated her for so long finally dissipated, leaving her world bathed in a warm, steady light. Everything she had ever hoped for was falling perfectly into place.

Following the proposal, Willow had officially moved into Silas’s penthouse.

Even though their apartments were practically next door to each other, Silas was incredibly traditional when it came to milestones. He insisted that the proposal marked a new chapter, and they needed to actually live together to truly belong to one another.

Willow agreed, deciding to let her mother, Martha Mercer, stay in her old apartment while she continued her recovery.

Martha was thriving post-surgery. Knowing her daughter had finally found true happiness erased the last of her heavy burdens. She was radiant, spending her days exploring the city, joining social clubs, and having afternoon tea with new friends. Ironically, Martha’s social calendar was far more vibrant than Willow’s.

That evening, Martha was out at a gala, leaving Willow and Silas alone in the expansive penthouse.

Soft, amber lighting bathed the living room as a romantic drama played quietly on the massive screen. Willow was curled up on the plush sofa, pressed snugly against Silas, wrapped in his warmth.

She was watching the TV. Silas was exclusively watching her.

The soft light cast a golden glow over her delicate profile. Her long lashes fluttered gently, looking so serene and beautiful that Silas felt a powerful surge of affection tightening his chest. Without a second thought, he leaned in, his signature scent of crisp snow and cedar washing over her as he claimed her lips in a slow, intoxicating kiss.

He wrapped his strong arms around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest, refusing to leave even an inch of space between them.

At first, Willow tried to keep one eye on the show, resting her hand lightly on his forearm and letting him kiss her.

But Silas’s kisses were never passive. They were deeply possessive, fiercely tender, and incredibly distracting. Before long, her mind went completely blank, the dialogue on the screen fading into white noise.

Willow pushed lightly against his solid chest, her eyes glossy and heavy with a shy reluctance. "Not tonight, Silas. I'm really tired."

Silas looked down at her flushed face, the soft, inviting pout of her lips, and his hunger only spiked. He lowered his voice to a dark, seductive murmur. "Darling, I'll be gentle. I won't keep you up late. Just once. Please?"

Willow let out a breathy sigh, unable to resist his coaxing. She shot him a weak glare. "Are you seriously this addicted to... this?"

Silas nuzzled his nose against her burning cheek, his touch impossibly tender. "I'm not addicted to this. I'm just addicted to you."

It was the absolute truth.

For over thirty years, he had lived in total isolation, leading an ascetic life devoid of romantic entanglements or physical desires. He simply hadn't cared.