Violet Zimmerman was awakened by Daxton Lancaster, still in a haze. The room was dimly lit by a bedside lamp, and under the faint glow, she met Daxton's bloodshot eyes. It took her a moment to comprehend his intention.
"Daxton, you're drunk."
Violet felt a bit guilty, the scene of being pinned against the wall by her younger uncle in the afternoon flashed uncontrollably in her mind.
What shocked her was that after being forcefully kissed by her uncle, she wasn't angry, nor did she deliberately avoid him. Instead, she let him support her to dinner...
"I'm drunk?" Daxton asked with a half-smile, kneeling beside Violet, each of his palms cradling her, looking up at her, though his chin was resting right in the middle of her chest.
As the baby reached a certain month, pregnant women already found it hard to breathe, and now with Daxton's chin pressing down, Violet felt even more suffocated, as if a boulder was pressing on her chest. She raised her hand to push Daxton's face away.
