Chapter 251

Several young men in the village were stealing glances at Emily, but Michael's sharp glare sent them shrinking back.

"After all these years, Michael still guards what's his like a hawk," someone muttered under their breath.

"Exactly. Can't even look at his wife, though she's such a beauty..."

Michael subtly shifted half a step closer to Emily, blocking their gazes completely. Oblivious to her husband's actions, Emily continued chatting with a neighbor.

After New Year greetings, Michael suddenly leaned in. "Sweetheart, let's go to town?"

"What about David and Tommy?" Emily frowned.

"Mom can watch them. It's too crowded today for kids," Michael said, already taking her hand. "Let's go."

"But it's over an hour's walk..."

"I borrowed the village bicycle." Michael's lips curved with smug satisfaction.

Emily studied this suddenly attentive man, recalling last night's intimacy, her ears turning pink. "Well... alright."

The bicycle rolled steadily down the country path. Emily held Michael's waist, breathing in his faint soap scent.

"Hold tight. We'll have fun in town," Michael said, barely containing his excitement.

Meanwhile, two little boys searched the yard for their parents.

"Grandma, where's Mom and Dad?" David asked, looking up.

Mary stuffed candies into their pockets. "They went to town. Next time. Too many people today—play here."

The town market buzzed with activity.

After parking the bicycle, Michael kept firm hold of Emily's hand. "Hungry?"

"I've forgotten what things used to taste like..." Emily admitted hesitantly.

"We'll take our time." Michael pulled her closer. "Don't let go—it's crowded."

Emily's beige cashmere coat stood out strikingly among the drab crowd. Young women eyed her outfit enviously.

"Try this." Michael handed her a triangle cake.

Emily took a small bite, eyes lighting up. "Delicious!"

"Now this." He offered a sugar-coated haws skewer.

Sharing bites, Michael suddenly whispered in her ear, "You're breathtaking."

Emily's face flamed red, nearly spilling her orange soda.

"I—I can't finish this..." She thrust the bottle at him in flustered haste.

Michael drank from where her lips had touched, his Adam's apple bobbing. Emily's pulse raced watching him.

Amid the market's cacophony, Michael felt the world shrink to just the small, soft hand in his.