Loving DAD 1180

Though Sharon hadn’t grown up in a life of great privilege, she’d never wanted for comfort. She had certainly never stayed in a place like this–walls stained by years of damp air, the faint scent of mildew clinging to the 

curtains. 

Thomas checked the room carefully, corner to corner, before his shoulders finally eased. No surveillance. Safe enough. 

When he turned around, Sharon was standing before the air conditioner, remote in hand, frowning. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked. 

“The heating doesn’t seem to work,” she said. 

He took the remote and tried a few buttons himself. The unit groaned, then went still. The heat function was dead. 

He turned it off. “Go take a hot shower. I’ll ask the owner about it.” 

Sharon thought of the innkeeper’s cold expression and shook her head. “Forget it.” 

The woman had been right–without IDs, they didn’t have the right to complain. This wasn’t a hotel, and they hadn’t exactly checked in by normal means. 

“It’s fine,” Thomas said. “I’ll just ask.” 

Seeing he wouldn’t let it go, Sharon didn’t argue. 

He was gone only a few minutes. When he returned, Sharon had just finished her shower. She didn’t have to ask; one look at his face told her everything. The innkeeper hadn’t helped–probably just snapped at him for being a nuisance. 

“Go wash up,” Sharon said softly. “I’ll set up the bed.” 

“Alright.” 

She pulled an extra blanket from the cabinet, wiped down the floor, and spread it neatly beside the bed. 

It was a double room–one bed, no more. If it had been a twin, she might’ve been embarrassed but fine. Sharing 

a single bed with a man who wasn’t her husband, though, was out of the question. Thomas had said he’d sleep. on the floor, and she wasn’t about to argue. 

When he came out of the bathroom, hair still damp, he saw what she’d done. 

“Thanks,” he said quietly. “It’s late. Let’s get some rest.” 

With the time difference, Sharon had been running on little to no sleep for two days straight. Her eyes burned with exhaustion. 

“Okay,” she murmured, lying down. 

Under normal circumstances, she could never have fallen asleep in the same room with a man whose 

1/2 

instantly. 

Thomas turned off the light and stretched out on the floor. 

That night, Sharon slept deeply. 

When she opened her eyes, for a brief moment, she thought she was home in Amstern City. Her own bed, her own room–everything before this felt like a strange dream. 

Then she heard the steady rush of rain outside and remembered where she was. 

The morning light was dim, the sky a dull gray. It had rained all night, still hadn’t stopped. 

Sharon pushed aside the blanket and sat up. That was when she noticed–Thomas was still asleep. 

She glanced at the clock on the wall. 8:15. 

Had he been that exhausted? 

After a moment’s hesitation, she knelt beside him and gave his shoulder a gentle shake. 

“Thomas, wake up.” 

He didn’t move. 

She shook him harder. “Thomas?” 

Still no response. 

A ripple of unease ran through her. Even in deep sleep, he shouldn’t have been this still. Thomas wasn’t the kind of man who slept heavily. 

Then she noticed the tension in his brow, the faint furrow that hadn’t relaxed even in sleep. 

Sharon’s eyes widened. A cold realization crept through her. 

Last night, he’d been in pain, holding his head, saying it hurt. Something wasn’t right.