CHAPTER 107: CHAPTER 106: WHAT KIND OF FEELING

Sienna Thornton twisted her body, wanting to break free, but Simon Forrester held her tightly. After struggling a few times without success, she simply gave up resisting.

But after the struggle, her breathing was completely chaotic. Smelling the familiar scent of the man holding her, she gradually calmed down.

At that time, early winter, they were both wearing winter clothes, especially her, in a puffy down jacket and thick jeans, so Simon also didn’t take advantage of her.

She simply let him hold her.

After holding her for a moment, he softly asked, "Why refuse?"

Her brain was nearly on the brink of crashing, unable to figure out what he meant by that at first. After a moment, she finally understood and hesitated to say, "I don’t feel like being together."

Even though Simon had prepared himself, he couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed at this moment. He reached out to stroke her fragrant long hair, lowered his eyes to look at her.

Under the dim corridor light, from his angle, her eyelashes were long and curled, her nose small and delicate, her lips rosy and slightly raised.

His heart stirred, and he instinctively leaned in to kiss her, but just as their noses touched, she quietly avoided him.

He smiled helplessly and then kissed her on the hair, softly saying, "What kind of feeling do you need to want to be together?"

Sienna stared blankly.

Indeed, what kind of feeling does she need to accept a man as her partner, granting him the privilege of occupying her time, affecting her emotions, caressing her body, and even influencing some of her decisions?

What kind of feeling does she need to give the other party these rights?

Security.

Yes, she needs security to be at ease handing over these rights.

But where does security come from?

Sienna found the answer.

She said, "The feeling of being in love."

"I..." Even Simon, who is quite eloquent, didn’t know how to continue this topic.

After a moment of silence, he sighed lightly and said, "We haven’t known each other for long. It’s normal that you don’t have that feeling for me yet. Let’s give each other a bit more time, more chances. I believe I can give you that feeling."

Normally, he isn’t good at saying things like this, but at this moment, he put aside all his pride and face.

But to Sienna, these words sounded like just an expanded version of "Try it." Her heart was still resistant, as she lightly pushed against his embrace and softly said, "I don’t like you, please stop."

His body froze, and the hands that were tightly holding her waist slowly loosened, and he took a step back, creating distance between them.

The warmth on her body suddenly departed, and she felt a bit lost, carefully observing his expression under the dim corridor light.

He lifted his eyes to look at her, his face full of heartbreak, but he didn’t say anything. He passed her a glance, gesturing to the door behind her, indicating she could go in.

Sienna turned and went back inside the room. As the door closed, she saw him turning to go downstairs.

She shut the door, leaning her back against the door frame, feeling her body slide down weakly.

Yes, it’s all over!

That’s good.

That night, Sienna did not suffer from insomnia anymore, but she experienced a different kind of sleep disturbance—being startled awake from deep sleep.

It seemed like a problem stemming from insecure thoughts due to an imbalance of gain and loss, and a concurrent discomfort in the heart affecting the nervous system.

After being startled awake for the third time, Sienna jumped out of bed, thinking: Something’s wrong!

She immediately called Maeve, blurting out, "Maeve, I’m in trouble!"

Maeve was at the airport, preparing to catch an early flight back to Brimfield. Hearing her words, her heart jumped to her throat, "What’s wrong? Take your time explaining!"

Sienna then detailed her sleep issues, including the consecutive awakenings from last night, without leaving out any detail.

Maeve said, "Think carefully, what happened each day when your sleep pattern changed?"

Sienna "hmm"-ed, making an effort to recall, and after a moment, she whispered, "It seems like I met Simon every day then..."

Maeve said, "And yesterday? You two went to South Bay, did something happen?"

"Nothing much happened..." Sienna hesitated, "Just... he asked me why I rejected him... and hugged me..."

The amount of information in that sentence was quite large, and Maeve asked no further questions. After pondering for a while, Maeve said, "I suggest you see a psychologist. Sleep problems are serious; poor sleep can even lead to sudden death."

"Ouch!" Sienna clutched her chest, nodding with tears, "Yes, yes! I did feel that my heart wasn’t comfortable!"

Maeve said, "Talk to Zion, let him help find you a doctor."

Three hours later, Sienna sat with a pale face in the study room of the city’s hospital psychology department head.

The head carefully asked about everything that had happened to her in the past three months. Because there’s a confidentiality agreement between patients and doctors, she felt comfortable sharing all her experiences during that time.

Afterward, they did some scales, and the head diagnosed that she had experienced three environmental changes within three months, along with continuous emotional fluctuations, disrupting her long-standing psychological balance, thus causing the sleep disturbances.

The solution was desensitization therapy.

Sienna wasn’t foolish; after completing the psychological consultation, she knew that her supposedly solid heart had collapsed. Because when she recounted the bits and pieces of her time with Simon, she felt utterly lost.

Her heart seemed to be fiercely torn apart.

That feeling was just like the one she had when she woke up at night...

Thanking the head, Sienna left with some suggestions they provided. Zion Quincy met her in the living room, concerned, "What’s the situation?"

"Stopped working for too long, suddenly returning to work, the pressure is quite big." Sienna casually found an excuse to brush him off.

Zion looked at her intently, silent for a few seconds, "I’ll go inside and say hello to the head before leaving, wait for me on the sofa."

"Oh, okay."

Zion went in, closing the door behind him gently, and in a low voice asked, "Head, what’s the situation with my friend?"

The head smiled, saying just enough, "There’s a temporary dependency on a particular environment. Leave it to time."

Zion was stunned.

Leaving the head’s home, Sienna was absent-minded and had a quick lunch with Zion before proposing to go home.

When she got off the car, Zion handed her a paper bag.

She was surprised and instinctively asked, "What’s this?"

"The men’s skincare products you asked me to bring for you last time."

"Oh, that..." Sienna took it but seemed not too pleased.

Zion carefully observed her, probing, "Is it for Simon Forrester?"

"Ah?" Sienna was startled, instinctively hiding the bag behind her, "No, it’s not." Seeing Zion not having the intention to leave, she hurriedly persuaded, "Okay, you should go back, I have a headache and need a nap."

Without waiting for Zion to say anything, she clutched the bag and sprinted into the corridor. She ran up to the fifth floor in one breath, opened the door, closed the door, leaned against the door frame, clutching her chest and breathing heavily.

Exposing her embarrassment, Zion’s words had both agitated and irritated her, puffing her cheeks like a small blowfish. After fuming for a while, she tossed the paper bag onto the hallway cabinet and went back to her room to sleep.

People with sleep disturbances often don’t sleep well at night but can sleep a lot during the day. She slept deeply throughout the day, until evening, when she woke up and outside it was dark. After taking a shower, she passed through the living room and saw the paper bag on the cabinet, hesitating for a moment before walking over to open it and take a look.

A milky white frosted bottle, textured brown cap, and a raised embossed logo on the bottle—a simple and elegant design typical for men’s skincare products.

She twisted it open, poured some into her palm, applied it, and then put on lotion, moisturizing both the palms and the backs of her hands, carefully as she would with her usual skincare.

She lifted her hand and smelled it.

Ah, it was Simon Forrester’s scent.

Tonight, she had a good night’s sleep.