Chapter 175 The Rhythm of You

Chapter 175 The Rhythm of You
Lena and Theon stood frozen as the door slammed shut in their faces.

Lena blinked at the door. "Did I just— did I just get… kicked out?"

Before she could process the betrayal, the door swung open again. Evelyn's face appeared, holding out a small plate.

"Here. Mrs. Chen made these. I saved you some."

Lena stared at the slice of cake. Then at Evelyn.

The door shut again.

Lena let out a long scoff. "I can't believe I'm being abandoned by my own friend."

She grabbed the rubber fork and stabbed a piece of cake, shoving it into her mouth with annoyed determination.

Then she felt a heated gaze on her.

She turned. Theon was staring at her. Intensely.

Lena glanced at the cake. "Do you want some?"

He shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips.

She sighed. "Why are you being so quiet? I noticed it."

Theon's smile faded. He turned fully to face her. His expression shifted into something serious.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, her voice dropping.

Theon let out a deep sigh. His hand came up to her shoulder, pulling her closer. He was quiet for a moment, as if gathering his words.

"I've been wanting to ask you this for a while." His gaze darkened. "Lena, what happened between you and Rhys?"

Her body went stiff beneath his hand.

"Is there something you're not telling me?"

Lena looked down at the remaining cake in her hand. Her grip tightened around the plate. For a long moment, she didn't speak. Her jaw worked, as if she was chewing on the words along with the cake.

Then she shoved the last piece into her mouth, broke out of his hold, and tossed the plate into a nearby trash bin.

Theon watched her. But he didn't push for an answer.

When she turned back, she wouldn't meet his eyes. Her hands were shoved into her coat pockets, with tensed shoulders.

"Lena."

She finally looked up and forced a small smile. "Alright. I'll tell you."

Theon's heart pounded. He stayed still, waiting. A flicker of hope crossed his face—that she was finally opening up to him.

"But..." She met his eyes. "I'll need your help with something."

—

Evelyn carried Noah upstairs, his tiny body warm against her chest. His breathing had evened out, his small fist curled against her collarbone. She settled him into the crib beside their bed, tucking the soft blanket around his legs.

For a moment, she just stood there, watching him sleep.

Then she turned—and collided with a solid wall of warmth. 

Her heart jumped. She gasped.

Roman's hand wrapped around her waist, steadying her.

"Easy, dear." His voice was low, a murmur against her ear.

Evelyn breathed out, her hand pressing against his chest. "You scared me."

Roman didn't apologize. He just smiled.

Then he moved. Slowly, he guided her backward, swaying with her in the dim light of the room. The only sounds were the soft hum of the heater and the baby's gentle breathing.

Evelyn smiled. "What are you doing?"

Roman pressed his forehead against hers. His fingers found hers, intertwining them. He lifted their joined hands and stepped to the side, pulling her with him.

She let out a silent laugh. "Darling there’s no music around.”

Roman’s gaze narrowed to her. “I know." He whispered back.

"You're dancing with me in a silent room?"

His gaze dropped to her lips, then back to her eyes. "I know."

She shook her head, smiling. "I can't believe you can actually slow dance like this."

"Why do you sound so surprised?"

Evelyn's hand rested on his shoulder. She let him guide her.

"Because we've been to expensive dinner parties with real music, and you never seemed interested. You always looked like you'd rather be anywhere else."

Roman's nose grazed hers. Her eyes fluttered closed at the sensation.

"You're right," he murmured. "Everything around me felt monotone. Until I became fascinated with you."

Evelyn opened her eyes.

His hand slid to her lower back, pressing her closer.

"I may not seem like the type who listens to music," he continued, his breath warm against her neck. "But you are my music. My rhythm. And my way back to sanity." 

Roman breathed out. “This is what loving you feels like.”

Evelyn's breath caught. “How does it feel like.” She muttered under her breath.

"Loving you," he whispered, "feels like dancing without music. There is no melody, no beat to follow. It shouldn't make sense." He kissed her jaw. "But when I close my eyes and listen to the rhythm inside me—the one that only beats for you—I find myself moving. Lost in it."

He pulled back to meet her gaze.

"And once you learn that dance, you can't stop. You become addicted. You don't need music anymore. You just need the person who taught you how to move."

Evelyn stared at him. She completely forgot how to breathe. Her face went hot, with her heart slamming so hard against her ribs.

Roman captured her lips in a soft, lingering kiss. He bit her bottom lip gently before pulling back.

Evelyn gasped for air.

"And… you say you're not poetic," she finally managed out. Breaking out from his intoxicating gaze.

Roman’s lips curved. "Am I?"

She swallowed hard, trying to steady herself. "If you really love me so much... then can I get to know you? Roman.”