The dim yellow light from the private room shone on his face. His otherwise elegant features suddenly took on a sinister edge. After a moment, he forcefully threw her onto the seat beside him and walked away without a glance, indifferent.
She sat there in a disheveled heap, her expression sorrowful. If he had been the husband she had deeply loved, or if he were the man who genuinely cared for and cherished her, how could she not depend on him?
But unfortunately, he wasn't, and she wasn't a naive little girl either. She wouldn't blindly rely on an unrealistic man just because of his occasional tenderness or moments of dominance. She had always been clear-headed, fully aware of the brutal reality.
