His handsome face was etched with exhaustion. His sharp eyes were bloodshot, and his face was covered in stubble, making him look ragged and gaunt.
"I'm fine!"
The first words out of his mouth were that he was fine. 'How could he possibly be fine!'
Georgia Thorne's eyes instantly welled with heat as tears spilled from their corners. "You're lying to me again!"
'How could a man accustomed to a life of privilege possibly be fine after suddenly being forced to live in such a filthy, unclean place?'
"Don't cry. When you cry like this…" Elliot Sheridan started, wanting to grab Georgia Thorne's wrist. Hearing the sharp CLINK of metal, he glanced at his restrained right hand and said helplessly, "I can't even hug you."
With one exception, he could never bear to see Georgia Thorne cry.
'Every time he saw Georgia cry, his heart would just melt. He'd want to pull her into his arms, spoil her rotten, and give her the very best of everything in the world.'
