His dark eyes were profound, the wrinkle of worry between his brow slightly creased as he fixed a gaze on her colorless face. Reflected in the depth of his pupil was a bundle of complex emotions.
He turned his tall figure around, stepped towards, and stood on the balcony.
He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and gently lit it.
He took a deep inhale.
The white smoke spread lightly across his face, blurring his expression.
An hour ago, he was still deeply distressed by her betrayal. He was close to losing control and pushing her into hell.
But now, looking at her paleness and collapse on the sickbed, a sense of heartache washed over him.
Charlie Austin was right.
Over the years, what he wanted, he never acquired.
Though he was ostensibly full of loathing, he uncontrollably kept her trapped by his side. The resentment from his heart disturbing him.
But only until today, he realized that seeing her in pain didn't bring any relief to him.
