Chapter 170 Love Letter

Chapter 170 Love Letter
[Sera]

"Absolutely," I replied immediately. "That's always been my plan."

Professor Davis visibly relaxed, a smile returning to his face. "Good. It would be a tremendous waste if you didn't. You have a rare academic talent and insight that would be lost to academia if you stopped now."

"Barrett thinks so too," I smiled. "He fully supports my continued education, whatever else happens."

"Barrett is a wise man," Davis nodded approvingly. "He recognizes and supports your talent." He patted my shoulder paternally. "If you need a mentor, I'd be honored to take on that role. I believe we'd have many shared research interests."

"Thank you, Professor," I said gratefully, feeling a sense of security and support I hadn't experienced in a long time.

When I got home that afternoon, I placed my backpack in the entryway and sighed. My conversation with Professor Davis had left me both excited and exhausted.

"Miss Sera, you're home!" Mrs. Parker peeked out from the kitchen, her face brightening with a warm smile. "You look in good spirits today."

"Thank you, Mrs. Parker," I smiled back, walking toward the kitchen. "Professor Davis was really interested in my research topic. Something smells wonderful—what's for dinner?"

"Roast chicken with herb potatoes and a vegetable salad," she said, wiping her hands on her apron. "Your favorite. Tea's ready if you'd like some."

"That sounds perfect, thank you."

I was about to head to the living room when I heard a familiar voice.

"How was your day?"

I turned in surprise to see Barrett leaning against the kitchen doorframe. He was home at least two hours earlier than expected, and he was holding a pink envelope in his hand.

"Barrett! You startled me. I thought you'd be home later."

"I wrapped up my meetings early," he said, his voice low with a hint of displeasure. "Wanted to surprise you." He held up the envelope, his eyes sharp. "Though it seems I'm not the only one giving you surprises today."

I frowned in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Found this while organizing your backpack," he explained, his jaw tense. "It fell on the floor."

I moved closer and saw a delicate pink envelope with just an elegant "S" on the front. "I don't know what that is," I said honestly. "I've never seen it before."

Barrett opened the envelope and removed a card. As he read it, his eyes narrowed dangerously, his expression darkening. He handed me the card, then tipped the envelope to reveal a dried rose petal.

I quickly read the message:

Dear Sera,

From the moment I saw your breathtaking photo in the news, I've been completely captivated. Your stunning emerald eyes, those delicate cheekbones, and that perfect, soft smile have haunted my every waking moment. But your beauty transcends the physical—it radiates from your brave soul that rushes toward danger when others flee.

I find myself dreaming of running my fingers through your silken hair, of tracing the curve of your perfect lips with my fingertip. What I wouldn't give to hold you close, just once, to feel the warmth of your breath against my skin, to taste the sweetness of your kiss that must be as intoxicating as fine wine.

You've bewitched me completely, my angel. Every night I close my eyes and see only your face, every morning I wake with your name upon my lips. One day, I swear, I'll gather the courage to tell you in person how you've set my heart ablaze with unquenchable desire.

Forever yearning for you,
A heart consumed by your flame

"Oh my god, it's so over-the-top," I said with a grimace, pushing the letter away. "Who even writes things like 'running fingers through your silken hair' and 'taste the sweetness of your kiss'? This is embarrassing."

"I really don't know who put this there," I added, still surprised. "I didn't notice it all day."

Barrett picked up the rose petal, turning it between his fingers, his eyes flashing dangerously. "Seems my wife has a secret admirer."

"Barrett Thompson, are you jealous?" I asked cautiously, hoping to lighten his mood.

He raised an eyebrow, his face still stern. "Jealous? Why would I be jealous of a 'secret admirer' who doesn't even have the courage to sign their name?"

He moved closer, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me against him. His voice carried unmistakable possessiveness: "However, I definitely don't like other men sending roses and love letters to my wife."

"It's not even a whole rose, just a petal," I said softly. "And the handwriting looks like it could be a woman's."

"That's worse," Barrett's eyes remained narrowed, his voice low. "Now I have to worry about female admirers too?"

He laughed self-deprecatingly. "Ironic that I've never written you a love letter myself. Apparently I need to learn some romantic techniques from your secret admirer."

I tried to smile. "You're impossible."

Barrett tossed the envelope into the trash with a slightly forceful motion, then checked his watch. "Give me ten minutes."

"What?" I asked, confused, but Barrett was already striding toward the door.

"Ten minutes!" he repeated, his voice carrying a determination I'd never heard before. "Don't move, wait right here."

Mrs. Parker peeked out from the kitchen with a puzzled expression, and I could only shrug helplessly.

True to his word, Barrett returned about ten minutes later, his face now bearing a slightly smug smile, his arms filled with so many bright red roses they nearly obscured his face.

"I just went out to buy these," he said, his expression considerably softer now. "After seeing that letter, I realized I needed to make certain things clear to certain people."

I took the enormous bouquet, barely able to hold it with one arm. "Barrett! This is excessive! Where did you even find these?"

"Flower shop around the corner," Barrett raised one eyebrow. "I told them to give me all their red roses."

"How do these compare to one dried petal?" he asked, his eyes gleaming with challenge.

I shook my head, laughing. "You really are jealous."

"Just marking my territory," Barrett pulled me close, ignoring the massive bouquet between us, his voice deep and firm. "Letting all secret admirers know that Sera Thompson is taken. I may not write love letters, but I prove it with actions."