Chapter 125

"I can't see clearly..."

Michael Stone noticed his wife staring intently at him, her almond-shaped eyes filled with confusion and anticipation.

"Emily, time for bed," he called softly.

Only then did Emily Johnson snap out of her thoughts.

Winter nights came early—by five o'clock, darkness had already settled in. Though it was barely seven now, what else was there to do in this era without electricity besides sleep?

"Do you want the outside or the inside?" she asked.

"Outside."

She sighed in relief, grateful she was wearing her thin thermal underwear—hopefully, he wouldn’t notice anything amiss. Quickly slipping under the covers, she wrapped herself tightly.

"Turn off the lamp."

How could Michael not notice his wife’s nervousness? His gaze never left her, capturing even the slightest movement.

Emily had a stunning figure, one that didn’t betray she’d borne two children. The curves beneath her clothes were impossible to ignore—full in all the right places, arresting his attention.

"Alright."

The moment the kerosene lamp went out, darkness swallowed the room. Though they lay apart, sharing the same quilt meant Michael could still catch the faint, delicate fragrance clinging to her.

"Why are you staring at me instead of sleeping?" Emily kept her eyes shut but could feel the heat of his gaze lingering on her face. In the pitch black, she shouldn’t have been able to see anything, yet the intensity of his stare made sleep impossible. Finally, she opened her eyes and asked coolly.

"I just want to look at my wife a little longer."

Emily rolled her eyes. "It’s pitch dark. Do you think you’re an owl or something?"

Was he teasing her?

"Your face is already carved into my heart."

Oh, smooth talker.

"Go to sleep. Aren’t you tired from working all day?" she deflected. Building a house was grueling labor—even as a helper, a full day’s work should have left him exhausted.

"Sleeping now." Michael’s heart swelled with warmth. His wife was worried about him. Even if she didn’t remember their past, her care remained.

Emily had expected insomnia. She’d always slept alone and rarely shared a bed with anyone. Yet, in her drowsiness, she found herself unconsciously gravitating toward the warmth beside her—even reaching out to embrace him.

Half-asleep, Michael felt someone nestle into his arms. Looking down, he realized it was Emily who had initiated the contact. A smile tugged at his lips as he gently pulled her closer, contentment lulling him back to sleep.

Emily remained oblivious—by the time she woke the next morning, Michael was already up.

"Emily, breakfast is ready."

Hearing his call, she hurried out of bed.

Had he made breakfast again? Emily couldn’t help but marvel: a man who could earn money, cook, dote on his wife, and adore his children—even in modern times, he’d be a catch.

Too bad she was just a side character.

On the table were sweet potato porridge, steamed eggs, and stir-fried potatoes with sauerkraut.

"Robert and William still have a few more days of work. Once they’re done, I’ll take you to town," Michael said as he ladled out the porridge.

"Dad, I want to go too!" Tommy immediately piped up.

"You’re still too young. I’ll take you when you’re older," Michael brushed him off.

Neither child pressed further.

"Sure," Emily agreed readily. She’d been wanting to visit town—maybe she could find a way to make some money. After all, she was strapped for cash and needed to buy goods from PennyDeals to resell.