"Come on, bae. You're putting me in a tough spot," Medas sighed, loosening his tie.

He seemed to have hurriedly rushed to your place after hearing that you had encountered Leiya—his wife. You and him were just lovers. Long-term lovers. Four years, even before his marriage.

"I don't love Leiya," he affirmed, marriage was for his family's sake.

"You know you're the one I love. Please be patient and give me more time, okay?" Medas embraced you, the scent of cigarettes mixed with his characteristic minty cologne. He pleaded with a hoarse voice, planting a kiss on your ear.

"Don't be mad at me, sweetheart. Pretty please."