"It's not..."
Arabella Vanderbilt didn't know what to say, "I can do it myself..."
Joel Russo, infuriated, let out a cold laugh and rolled off her.
The lights in the room were turned on, Arabella squinted her eyes and sat up as well, turning her head to look at the man standing by the door, his suit impeccable, his presence filled with a heavy low pressure.
Arabella sat on the bed, biting her lip and brushing her hair aside, turning her head to look out at the night through the window, the mottled shadows of the trees and the hazy light lay scattered at the window.
The room was silent.
After a long while—
Arabella's faint voice slowly rose, "It's my fault, I overlooked your feelings..."
She blinked, turning her head even more towards the direction of the window.
"This matter..." Arabella paused again, swallowing the sourness welling up in her throat, then slowly continued, "...is too humiliating, Joel Russo, this is... too humiliating for me..."
