His gentle care sent a comforting warmth through Camila Davis, softening her heart with every small gesture.
“Okay,” she murmured.
She couldn’t bring herself to refuse his kindness. Her body relaxed, and she let herself lean back against him.
His chest was broad and solid, radiating a heat that felt even more soothing than a warm bath. Wrapped in his arms, Camila felt utterly safe—like nothing could touch her here.
The way he massaged her shoulders was just right—firm enough to work out the tension, gentle enough to lull her. She could have easily drifted off to sleep just like that.
But then his low voice rumbled right beside her ear. “When we got back tonight, you seemed distracted—almost like you were scared. Camila, what’s on your mind? Was it what Larry said? Did it get to you?”
Camila’s mind had gone completely blank, and it took her a few seconds to catch up. Only after a sluggish pause did she remember Larry Adams’ words from earlier that evening.
Honestly, after her talk with Sarah Brown, she had already tried to talk herself out of it. But now, faced with Dennis’ gentle question, she found herself speaking openly.
“At first, yeah, it did bother me. I’m scared I won’t be a good partner. Once I step into research full-time, there’ll be so many things beyond my control. I’ll get caught up in work, and I won’t be able to focus on our home, or on you. I’m afraid I’ll end up being a lousy girlfriend—maybe I won’t be around when you need me, whether it’s for your health or just for comfort. After a while, even the strongest love might wither away.”
Dennis heard the change in her voice, the way it trembled. His arms tightened around her, pulling her closer.
Camila felt his grip firm at her waist, then suddenly he turned her gently so she was facing him.
She looked up at him, her eyelashes fluttering, and a single tear slid down her cheek before she could stop it.
Dennis had never seen her like this before. His own heart clenched painfully, aching right along with hers.

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