So, there he was, tossing and turning, unable to catch a wink of sleep. Initially, Tyrone thought it was


    no big deal. His heart wasn''t aching or anything, but he constantly had this nagging feeling, like there


    was something stuck in his chest that he couldn''t get rid of. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn''t


    find a way to let it out, so he just buried himself in work. Whenever Snow butted heads with him, he''d


    take it out on her.


    For the past few days, Tyrone hadn''t bothered reaching out to Quintessa. He didn''t give it much


    thought. Why should he be the first to swallow his pride and go to Quintessa? Not this time.


    Every now and then, he''d recall Quintessa''s words "Physical intimacy, I''m in. But if you''re ying for


    keeps, count me out!"


    And Tyrone would think, fine, I don''t need love. Physicalpany is all I want from you.


    But deep down, he couldn''t ept it.


    Days went by, and Tyrone couldn''t even tell what he really wanted anymore.


    Mrs. York noticed Tyrone''s gloomy appearance and the troubled look in his eyes. She nudged his


    shoulder, "You''ve been having issues with her, haven''t you?"


    Tyrone didn''t respond or bother to speak up. What issues? It''s not like they were actually together in


    the first ce.


    After a moment, Tyrone murmured, "Mom, I''m feeling down."


    "I can see that."


    "I feel like I got yed."


    "What? By whom?" Mrs. York eximed.


    Tyrone''s gaze was unfocused as he stared at the ceiling and calmly said, "That Young enchantress."


    Mrs. York''s curiosity faded, "Oh, well, that''s normal, I guess."


    "What do you mean?"


    "Nothing, ah." Mrs. York cleared her throat, changing the subject. "Did you fight with her?"


    "It''s not a fight. I thought I was being


    good to her, but she keeps pushing me away. Every time I try to get close, she rejects me." Tyrone


    wished they had fought; at least that would mean some interaction. But that day, everything was calm.


    After their moment together, she just smoked a cigarette, took a shower, smiled at him, said something,


    and then left.


    Unlike any woman he''s known, Quintessa walked away so effortlessly, which left him to dwell on it.


    Mrs. York sighed, "Maybe you think you''re being good to her, but have you asked if she feels the


    same?"


    Tyrone frowned, "But I''m good to her; she has no reason to reject me."


    Mrs. York patted Tyrone''s head, "Son, are you kidding me? Where''s this confidenceing from?"


    Tyrone scowled, "Mom."


    "So, what makes you so great?"


    Tyrone stayed silent, just ring at Mrs. York.


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    Feeling a chill from his gaze, Mrs.


    e


    York said, "Alright, alright, you''re the best. How could I possibly know


    what you''re thinking? You don''t even understand it yourself." S


    Not wanting to engage further, she handed a small pouch of jewelry to Wilma, "Wilma, could you put


    this away for me?"


    Knowing that it was the jewelry they had lent to Vivian, Tyrone casually remarked, "Nice, you actually


    got it back."


    "Someone helped get it back."


    Tyrone paused, someone? Was it Quintessa?


    His brows which had been tense for


    days, finally rxed, and he


    suddenly hugged Mrs. York, "Mom,


    you''re the best. I''ll never use you of scheming against me again."


    Mrs. York pushed him away, giving a disgusted look, "What do you want now?"


    "After all the trouble she went through for you, isn''t saying thank you to her the least I can do as your


    son?"


    Tyrone breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, he got a solid excuse to see her again.