Love Burned, She Rose Unscathed novel Chapter 275

Strolling along the riverbank, the neon signs on both sides flickered, the bustling noise of the city suddenly quieted down, giving Roseanne the illusion that both time and pace had slowed down.

Side by side, a comfortable silence enveloped them, not awkward but harmoniously unspoken.

It felt as if doing nothing, just being beside this person, was the most comfortable state of being.

“How about we go up to the bridge and catch some wind?”

Roseanne suddenly suggested, a gentle breeze blowing by as she tucked a stray hair behind her ear.

Owen followed her gaze towards the distant bridge: “Sounds good, though it seems a bit far.”

Roseanne joked: “What, getting tired already?”

Owen raised an eyebrow, responding: “How about we race to see who gets there first?”

He laughed at the thought, both of them in their fifties, acting like children.

But Roseanne was eager: “Alright, loser buys ice cream.”

Had Leda been there, she'd have teased her for such modest ambitions.

Just ice cream, and from her cousin no less. Even if she asked for something more expensive, he wouldn't blink an eye, okay?

Owen, however, nodded seriously: “You're on.”

“On the count of three. Three, two, one—”

Roseanne took off, with Owen leisurely chasing behind.

He kept a steady distance, neither too close nor too far.

Reaching the bridge out of breath, Roseanne's eyes sparkled despite her fatigue.

Turning back with a triumphant smile, she looked at him like a smug little fox—

Norris Cole, busy to the point of missing holidays, still fulfilled his daughter's whims, treating her like a princess, but never sparing the rod when needed.

In contrast, Madge's expectations were simpler, or rather, nonexistent.

She could romp around, splash in puddles on rainy days, or get as muddy as a little monkey, as long as she was alive.

“...My mom could always guess where I hid my allowance, even my dad's secret stash wasn't safe from her precise search, she never missed.”

Recalling her childhood, Roseanne's laughter was bright.

Her eyes sparkled like the stars, occasionally gesturing as she spoke, bathed in the warm glow of the streetlight.

Owen watched quietly, a smile playing on his lips, captivated by the radiance as if about to drown in it.

And he, willingly overwhelmed, unable to resist.