Bonds at War: The Untouched is Mine novel Chapter 229

Chapter 229 Tension–filled

TESSA

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I could already feel the ache in my arms when I walked home, the water jug digging against my palms. It wasn’t heavy in the way it had been weeks ago. My body was used to these small burdens, but tonight, it felt heavier than usual. Maybe because my thoughts had been tangled all day. Or maybe because I kept seeing Rowan’s face when I closed my eyes.

And just like I feared, there he was. His shoulders were slumped, his shirt sticking to his back, a thin layer of dust clinging to him from the renovation work at the clinic. He looked utterly exhausted, light strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Still, the moment he saw me, he reached forward and took the jug from my hands.

“I can do it,” I snapped, glaring up at him.

“I know,” he muttered. “But I still want to do it for you.”

The way he said it caught me off guard. It was a quiet insistence. I sighed, shaking my head, but I didn’t try to take the jug back. Fighting with him when he was like this felt pointless.

By the time we reached the house, I was ready to shoo him away. I didn’t want Calla to peek out the window or the door and see him again. She was clever. She’d notice patterns. When he inevitably leaves, she’d just be disappointed.

“Put it on the steps,” I told him.

He frowned, but he obeyed, setting the jug down carefully on the steps leading to the small house. His hands lingered there for a moment, scratched and bruised. My heart clenched before I could stop it.

“Leave,” I said firmly.

He pursed his lips. For a moment, I thought he’d argue. Instead, he swallowed, his voice quiet when he asked, “Can I have some water?”

I crossed my arms, trying to hold onto the wall I’d built. “Have it at Edith’s house.”

His eyes flickered with hurt and resignation. Afterward, he said in a much softer voice, “Can I

see Calla?”

I bit my lip, not allowing myself to answer.

My tongue felt glued to the roof of my mouth. Was I being too harsh? Or was this exactly what

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Chapter 229 Tension–filled

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he deserved? He had shattered me once. Didn’t he deserve to feel the weight of the walls he built with his betrayal?

But even as I thought it, my gaze betrayed me. His hands were rougher now, the skin broken in small places. His shoulders seemed smaller, like he’d been running himself ragged.

I bent down, meaning to take the jug myself and carry it inside before Calla noticed. But before my fingers could even curl around it, Rowan stepped in.

“I’ve got it,” he said.

“Rowan-

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“Please, Tessa.”

Just then, my foot caught on the edge of the step, his arm brushed mine as he reached for the jug, and before I could correct myself, we were both stumbling. The water sloshed violently. He shoved the jug away at the last second to keep it from bursting, and instead, I toppled forward, right onto him.

His back hit the ground with a dull thud, and I landed on top of him, breath knocked from my chest. My palms pressed against his chest for balance, and his arm instinctively curled around my waist, steadying me.

For a heartbeat, maybe two, I couldn’t breathe. His scent flooded me, stealing the air from my lungs. His chest rose and fell beneath me, and I could feel the strength still there, even if he looked worn down.

My breath hitched.

I lifted

my head, ready to scramble away, to spit out some sharp remark that would cut the moment to pieces. But then I saw his eyes filled with real concern, and I couldn’t find myself to

move.

His hand didn’t tighten possessively around my waist–it stayed there like an anchor.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly.

The question broke something inside me.

I should have leapt up and put as much distance between us as possible. However, my body refused to move. My heart betrayed me with its frantic hammering.

I stared down at him, my hair falling loose around my face.

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Chapter 229 Tension–filled

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His hand was still on my waist. My breath stuttered as I tried to calm myself, but it was impossible. He was so close. I could see every detail of his face–the flecks of gold in his irises, the faint scar near his temple, and the shadows under his eyes that told me how hard he’d been working.

My throat went dry, my pulse racing in places I didn’t want it to.

He smells good.

“Thank you,” he suddenly said, making my eyes widen.

Oh no. My stomach dropped. Had I said that out loud?

“I-” My mouth snapped shut. Heat flared in

my cheeks.

His lips curved, but not in mockery. “You smell good, too,” he muttered under his breath.

My eyes widened even more. Just then, as if he couldn’t resist, he leaned in, closing the smallest space left between us, and inhaled.

“I missed your scent so much,” he confessed.

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