Reborn From Oblivion

Nathalie finished her meal and glanced up at the sky, which was steadily darkening. The clouds were thick and heavy, signaling that rain was on its way.

She turned to Morris with a gentle smile and said, "Hey, why don't you come home with me, Morris?"

But Morris, having just finished his burger, ignored her completely and lay down to catch some shut-eye, his eyes closing as he drifted off. Nathalie's request went unnoticed.

Feeling a bit miffed, Nathalie pouted, "Morris, you know the deal-eat my food, you're my responsibility now. So, come home with me."

Still, Morris didn't budge.

Seeing no other option, Nathalie decided to hunker down next to him. "Alright, if you're staying put, then I'm sticking around too."

She mimicked Morris's relaxed pose, sprawling out beside him, hands tucked behind her head, trying to find some calm.

But her heart was anything but calm.

She broke the silence, her voice tinged with anxiety, "Nathan, are you mad at me for not visiting you these past three years?"

Morris's eyelashes fluttered slightly, but he kept quiet.

Nathalie continued, almost talking to herself, "Nathan, I think about you all the time. I worry about you in prison-not having enough to eat, not staying warm, and maybe even getting bullied. It's just..."

Her voice faded to a whisper.

Morris caught a faint snippet: "We've grown up, and there are lines between men and women. I had to consider your fiancée's feelings..."

His eyes snapped open in the darkness, a soft smile playing on his lips as the clouds parted. Her absence was due to a misunderstanding about his relationship with Ashley.

She always put others first, never herself.

Such a caring soul.

He wondered how many people were truly swayed by the power of the city's richest woman?

"You sent a bodyguard for me, didn't you? Thanks to him, I've been doing alright," Morris said, turning to face her.

Nathalie felt her cheeks heat up, grateful for the darkness that concealed her blush.

"How did you figure out it was me?"

Morris chuckled, "You didn't exactly send a mastermind. I spotted him on day one."

Nathalie murmured, "Better to be honest. If they're too clever, they might outsmart you."noveldrama

Her thoughtfulness was touching.

A raindrop landed on Morris's cheek.

The coolness reminded him just how chilly early spring nights in the city could be.

"You should head home," he urged Nathalie.

Nathalie's voice was soft, almost pleading, "Will you come with me?"

Morris turned his head away. "Is it really my home?"

Nathalie squeezed his hand. "Wherever I am, that's your home too."

Morris fell silent.

"Nathan, I get why you won't go back to the Rowland family or the McCoy family. But why won't you come back to our home?" Her voice was thick with emotion, on the brink of tears.

Morris's throat tightened.

Our home?

His eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

He longed to return to that home. A home with Nathalie.

That dream had kept him going for the last three years.

But he had his reasons for staying away.

Not too long ago, he'd collapsed in prison, prompting a full medical examination. The prison doctor had delivered some harsh news: "No. 13, your health is in decline. You're

showing signs of premature aging..."

He'd always known his health was fragile. His childhood, marked by kidnapping,

beatings, and hunger, had left him with lingering issues.

When Gavin brought him back, the

familial warmth he craved was absent. Instead, he faced coldness and manipulation, leaving him disillusioned. His once optimistic outlook twisted into isolation and depression.