Please Let Me Go, My Contracted Ex-Husband.-Chapter 106 - - my heart is racing for you

The next day, he took her directly to the racetrack. The small town they were staying in lay before the vast, blue sea, with rolling mountains behind. The racetrack was situated halfway up the mountain, covering an expansive area.

Equestrian enthusiasts could ride along the beach for a slow stroll, gallop freely through the forests, or stand quietly halfway up the mountain, taking in the expansive view of the vast purple fields below.

It was the peak season for lavender in July, and the entire mountain was covered in vibrant purple, stretching endlessly into the distance. The deep blue sky in the distance created an illusion of a dreamlike world.

Some say the scent of lavender is like a half-dream, half-awake state in life: faint to the extreme, yet deeply engraved in the heart.

The fragrance of lavender is neither as light as jasmine nor as melancholic as the night-blooming cereus. It is simply serene, independent, and unconcerned with the opinions of others.

Those who like it will adore it, while those who don't will avoid it after one encounter. This unique scent is always linked to a deeper, distant melancholy. Melancholy, yet not mournful, like the faint moonlight after autumn, like a longing from across thousands of miles.

Cynthia chose a chestnut-colored horse, one that appeared gentle and strong. She liked the sense of security it gave her—trustworthy, not betraying, nor abandoning her.

She had always been a bold woman. After a brief time getting familiar with the horse, she confidently mounted it. With a white rider's hat, she looked graceful and heroic, with the kind of charm that suggested she was no less capable than any man. She turned and flashed him a smile before galloping away.

He admitted, her radiant smile as she glanced back made him momentarily lose focus. Soon after, a pleased smile curved his lips as he hurried to catch up.

Cynthia raced towards the mountaintop, the feeling of running with the wind instantly uplifting her spirits. It turned out, all she had wanted was simply freedom.

Behind her, the sound of galloping hooves drew closer. Before long, he overtook her, turned to flash a thumbs-up, and his dark eyes shimmered with admiration.

"You ride well!"

She smiled warmly, urging her horse to catch up with him. When they reached the mountaintop, the fiery red sunset was slowly sinking. The two of them rode side by side, standing in the last rays of the sunset, a beautiful and romantic sight.

If they were a pair of deeply in love people, how happy and romantic would this scene be? But they weren't, so such a beautiful moment could only be something to remember once they were apart.

Perhaps it felt inappropriate to think such sorrowful thoughts under the beautiful sunset, so she simply closed her eyes, tilted her head back, and emptied her mind, letting herself be immersed in the vibrant purple of the mountains.

Albert Wilson, dressed in a black rider's outfit with white pants, sat high on his horse. He turned to look at the woman beside him, who was also on horseback, riding alongside him. She had her eyes closed, her fair, delicate face bathed in the golden light of the sunset, so beautiful that his heart trembled in waves.

He didn't know how to describe the feeling inside him at that moment. All he knew was that this fluttering sensation was something he had never felt for any other woman, including Lucca. His heart had always been as calm as water, even in the presence of the most stunningly beautiful women.

What he wanted from them was their bodies, and their usefulness to him. He had never once desired to enter a woman's heart. But now, as she quietly sat before him, he suddenly wanted to possess her.

But she remained distant, like the vast purple fields around them, like the fragrance lingering in the air, faint and unreachable.

Later, one day, he would finally understand that this tumultuous feeling was called love, but by then, she would be beyond his reach, separated from him by death.

He didn't know how much time had passed, but when Cynthia's mood gradually returned to its usual calm, she slowly opened her eyes, only to find that the air around them had become eerily quiet.

When she turned her head, she met the intense, deep gaze of the man. His dark eyes were filled with so many emotions that she couldn't understand. No, it wasn't that she couldn't understand; it was that she never expected such emotions to appear in his eyes, yet they suddenly did.

For example, affection. For example, tenderness. For example, longing.

She admitted that her heart involuntarily skipped several beats. He was already handsome and charming, and with such deep, intense eyes, no woman could resist his allure. She was no exception.

But just as quickly, she regained her composure. Pretending not to notice the change in his eyes, she forced a smile and said,

"The sun's already set, let's head back."

Then, she turned her horse and passed him, her figure fading into the distance, accompanied by the fresh and subtle scent of lavender, which lingered in his mind long after she had gone.

After she turned, Albert Wilson also pulled himself out of his thoughts. His dark eyes narrowed as he stared thoughtfully at her swiftly retreating figure. Only when she had disappeared into the woods did he gently urge his horse forward, chasing after her.

On the way back, they passed the beach. She, who had been riding ahead at full speed, suddenly slowed down. He instinctively slowed his horse too, following her at a distance. From a few steps behind, he could see the faint sadness on her face.

In his memories, she rarely seemed so sentimental. She always gave the impression of being unshakable. No matter the time, no matter the place, she was always the cold, unyielding Cynthia.

On the beach, couples kissed intimately, elderly people strolled together, supporting each other, and playful children ran around laughing. Three entirely different life stages unfolded before them. Cynthia felt a pang of melancholy.

She longed for all three types of love, yet none of them seemed likely to happen for her. Her childhood was never this carefree, and her love could never be as free-spirited. The man beside her could never kiss her with that kind of deep affection.

As for her future... she always believed that no one could know who would be by their side in the last moment. Who could guarantee that the elderly couple holding hands today had been each other's first love?

That was why she didn't like promises of eternal love. If anything could be said, it would be about the present, but she never wanted to talk about the future, because life wasn't just about today. No one could guarantee they would have the courage to maintain a relationship when faced with the uncertainties of the future.

As she remained lost in her melancholy, she heard his voice, carrying a hint of command:

"Get off the horse!"

She turned to see that, at some point, he had ridden up beside her and was now standing next to her. She looked at him, somewhat confused by his sudden, inexplicable words.

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"What for?"

"I told you to get off the horse!"

Albert Wilson shot her a glare, then dismounted and walked in front of her horse.

Just moments ago, they had galloped together, side by side, and now, standing together, he felt an unprecedented sense of peace. He had never imagined that one day, a woman would be able to stand beside him and witness the world's bustling wonders.

Cynthia, puzzled, followed his movements and dismounted as well. However, before her feet could steady on the ground, he suddenly pulled her toward him. She stumbled, falling into his arms, and before she could react, his scorching kiss overwhelmed her.

One hand still held the reins of the chestnut horse, while her other arm instinctively wrapped around his lean waist as she helplessly endured his kiss. His sudden intensity left her struggling to keep up.

Just moments ago, she had thought that such a beautiful scene would never happen to her. Yet, with his actions, he shattered that thought. But was his behavior just the moment, or was it driven by something deeper?

The force of his kiss was overwhelming, so much so that her lips stung from it. He didn't even give her a chance to breathe, as he wildly claimed every bit of sweetness from her mouth. She had initially resisted slightly, but eventually, only breathless gasps remained.

When she felt as though she might suffocate from the kiss, he finally released her. His dark eyes burned with an intense, heated glow, as if they could ignite her. His voice was hoarse and deep, like the low hum of a cello lifting a beautiful note to warm her cold heart.

He said,

"Cynthia, in this moment... my heart is racing for you!"