Naomi Kirby's eyes flickered slightly.
She vaguely remembered the day Mr. Rivers was taken into the detention room.
He never got into trouble, but he was detained by the police. That night there was thunder and lightning, and it rained all night, which made her very uneasy.
Thankfully, it was only for one night, and he came back.
She stepped forward with concern and caught a faint scent of osmanthus from his body—not just floral, but a very unique aroma. She realized, albeit reluctantly, that he must have held another woman.
Still, she gathered the courage to confess to him after waiting for so many years, having gathered enough courage, no factor could stop her.
But before she could voice her confession, he spoke first.
She remembered his distant expression, like he was looking out the window or at the bathtub ahead, his eyes were cold and his voice was light, as if he was unintentionally confiding in someone.
"Naomi, do you have someone you like?"
"Yes."
