Sophia's heart trembled with sudden tenderness.

She stared at the man before her, throat tightening.

Ethan's lips met hers with familiar warmth.

In the next moment, she was lifted into the air.

"Put me down," she gasped softly.

Ethan ignored her, carrying her straight to the bed.

He laid her down gently, as if handling fragile porcelain.

"Did you miss me?" He leaned closer, his obsidian eyes locking onto hers.

Sophia's lashes fluttered.

More than missed.

Every midnight since their divorce, when nightmares woke her, she'd ached for this embrace.

The security her mother couldn't provide—only he could give it.

Amusement flickered in Ethan's gaze.

"Wait for me." He turned toward the bathroom. "I'll wash up and tuck you in."

Sophia froze.

"These past three years, I've comforted you through every nightmare." His tone was matter-of-fact.

Heat rushed to her eyes.

So it wasn't the bed's comfort or good feng shui.

It was him, soothing her fears night after night.

"Why?" Her voice cracked.

Ethan arched a brow. "Does a husband need reasons to comfort his wife?"

She clutched the sheets. "Then why divorce me?"

"Because in your dreams, you kept calling—" He paused abruptly. "Do you know you talk in your sleep?"

Sophia shook her head blankly.

His low chuckle vibrated through her. "You said my name. Said you loved me."

"Liar." Her ears burned.

He wasn't entirely truthful.

That sleep-softened whisper had haunted him ever since.

Ethan pulled her close, gently patting her back.

Sophia drifted into slumber quickly.

Moonlight bathed her childlike face in purity.

Ethan watched for a long moment before murmuring at her ear, "Call me 'Kyle' again, and I'll really leave you."

The threat held no bite—his gaze dripped with tenderness.

At dawn's first light, Sophia awoke first.

Holding her breath, she shifted carefully.

Her fingertips brushed against something unexpected—she froze.

Ethan's eyes opened, voice rough with sleep. "I want you."

Three words, heavy with unspoken hunger.

"Take care of it yourself." She flushed, scrambling away.

He buried his face in her neck with a muffled laugh. "So cruel."

"You said no intimacy unless we remarry."

"Then let's remarry now." His gaze sharpened instantly.

Sophia laughed despite herself.

So this was his game.

But memories of the Sullivan family drama drained her courage.

In the end, she pushed Ethan toward the bathroom.

After breakfast, they encountered Kyle Grant in the hallway.

The black-clad man's gaze swept over their entwined figures before he turned away.

"My girlfriend." Ethan tightened his arm around Sophia pointedly.

Kyle didn't break stride. "She looks happy."

His retreating silhouette carried indescribable loneliness.

After seeing Ethan off, Sophia immersed herself in the museum for two days.

Inspiration flowed like a spring.

Back in Kyoto, she secluded herself for a full month.

Discarded drafts piled like mountains; ink stained her fingers black.

When the final brushstroke settled, tears streamed down her face.

"Travelers Among Mountains" had come alive.

Towering peaks seemed to leap from the silk; caravan bells echoed in her ears.

Hands shaking, she dialed a number. "Uncle Zachary, I've captured its soul!"

Joy bubbled uncontrollably through her voice.