The answer she received was a stretch of silence.
Emilia Goldsmith stared at him unblinkingly, refusing to look away, and said defiantly, "Why won't you speak? I've liked you for so long, and now you tell me that you like someone else. Just because I've liked you for such a long time, at least I deserve to know who the other person is, who I've lost to, don't I?"
Lyle Westbrook's peach blossom eyes showed a hint of helplessness, his rose-colored thin lips parted slightly, and he still responded to her, "Emilia, you haven't lost."
Those few words, and Emilia Goldsmith's eyes quickly reddened, her tears almost spilling over. But she held them back, forcing them down, preserving the last bit of dignity of the socialites, "I haven't lost not because I won, but because in your heart, I never even had the chance to compete, right? So, when you say I haven't lost, it's because there never was a win or lose!"
