Chapter 29 

Ryder smiled faintly.“Hold on tight.” 

Me:“…” 

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Perhaps because of this morning, my mind felt a little off. 

I thought his words held another meaning, but I held onto his neck. 

He walked slowly. 

Despite the winding mountain path, I felt comfortable. The wind occasionally blew my hair onto his neck and face. After last night, our interaction felt less stiff than our first meeting three years ago. 

years 

– 

I enjoyed the scenery, asking him about the about General Ryder, the neighbors, even the big black dog I 

past three 

disliked. 

I purposely avoided his personal life. 

He answered calmly. 

“Dad wasn’t angry. He misses you, often talks about you.” “The neighbors ask about you, especially Mrs. Gable.” “The dog is well–behaved now. No more barking.” It felt bittersweet, realizing how much had changed. “And you? How were the past three years?” Ryder asked. 

I paused.“Good. I’m doing what I love, and I’m happy. I’ve learned so much. I won two awards – for my advanced medical device and a new fiber technology.” 

I chattered excitedly, like a cat seeking praise. 

Ryder listened patiently. 

< Chapter 29 

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But when I mentioned Ethan Fuller repeatedly, his heart tightened. 

He lifted me slightly. 

The sudden movement interrupted me. 

I frowned.“Uncle, what’s wrong?” 

Ryder said seriously, “The ground is slippery.” 

I didn’t think much of it, but then he asked, “Claire, did you think of me during these three years?” 

I paused, ignoring the question. 

A flicker of sadness crossed his eyes, quickly replaced by a smile. 

He changed the subject. 

“I learned to sing. Want to hear?” 

I was surprised; I’d never heard him sing before. 

I’d pestered him, but he always avoided it. 

I blinked.“Let’s hear it.” 

Ryder cleared his throat, his voice clear and 

“You ask how deep my love is, how much I love you. My love is true, my love is deep, the moon represents my heart…” 

He’d heard a comrade sing it during a mission; the comrade was getting married and wanted to sing to his wife. 

Ryder had been forced to listen for a week. 

He remembered our wedding night – my lovely face under the veil, his anger over societal expectations. 

Our wedding night was empty, and I 

He now berated himself. 

and I was heartbroken. 

He finished, asking, “How was it? Good?” 

< Chapter 29 

“Okay.” 

It was decent; at least it wasn’t bad. 

I noticed his flushed ears and neck. 

He only got this red when I’d angered him. 

What was going on? 

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I plucked a flower from my wreath, tickling his neck. 

His ears reddened further; his heart fluttered. 

His voice was husky.“Want to hear more?” 

“Yes.” I answered casually, continuing to tickle his ears. 

“Then call me Gesang.” 

“Gesang.” I called out readily. 

His heart felt full. 

He cleared his throat and continued to sing. 

He walked slowly, gazing into the distance, hoping this road would never end. 

< Chapter 30