Chapter 89
Chapter 89
There's no doubt that I'm not equal to Harrison.
I want him to help me, but if he doesn't want to, I can't help it. Does he really not care that I almost got raped?
Harrison stops stroking my hair and lowers his head to look at me.
I try to hold back my tears, but I can't. Seeing him makes me feel even worse. I almost forgot I just dodged a bullet.
The moonlight shines on his cold face.
He kisses my eyes, gently drains my tears, then slowly kisses my lips.
I clench my hands and my body goes stiff. It's been a long night, and I'm exhausted. I just want to be loved by this man now.
Even if we can't end up together, he belongs to me now. Carpe Diem. At this moment, I put all the things that had been bothering me behind me. The things that have always mattered don't seem to matter anymore.
I put my hands on his neck and enjoy his tender kiss. He acts like I'm his treasure. Then I gradually lost my consciousness and
my body went limp...
It's already the next morning when I open my eyes. I look around and realize it's Harrison's house.
"You're awake."
I keep lying on the bed and ask, "When did you bring me here?"
"Someone pounced on me and fainted with excitement before a proper kiss. I was afraid something might happen to her, so I brought her here."
A shadow of smile touches his mouth as he walks to the bed.
My face is burning, and I try to explain, "I pounced on you because the big bad wolf was chasing me. I fainted because I was in a state of shock." This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.
"Aren't you worried that I'm also a big bad wolf?" he asks.
Staring at him in silence, I speak indifferently, "You may be the wolf, but I'm not the lamb."
Even if I was a lamb, I wouldn't be the one he wanted. I know myself well.
No wolf likes a lamb left over from another wolf.
At this moment, I'm especially regretful. I shouldn't have thrown myself into his arms
when I saw him. I'd rather he didn't show up than know I almost got raped.
"Don't you want to know what happened between Callen and me?" I take the initiative to ask him.
He raises his eyebrow and seems to be very surprised. "This is your privacy."
"What if I want to tell you?" I ask again.
Does he not want to know, or does he not care? I wish he'd make me tell him what happened last night, because it shows he still cares about me.
But that's just my wishful thinking. He shrugs with a smile and changes the subject.
"Are you hungry?"
"Not yet."
"Well, I'm gonna go make breakfast. You can get up now." With that, he's about leave.
In panic, I grab his wrist and stop him from leaving.
He stops with his back facing me.
In the quiet room, I seem to hear my racing heartbeat.
"Harrison, can-can you not leave?" I'm very afraid when I say this. What if he says no? What if he drives me out again?
But I still want to give it a try. I want to change our relationship. It's the only way I can be happy and get what I want.
After a long while, he turns around and gently pushes away my hand.
My heart sinks. He rejected me and sent me to hell.
He's telling me that he'll never be with me.
Lowering my head, I do not dare to look at him. I don't want him to see my tears, even though I've cried a million times in front of him.
I've hit rock bottom. Turns out he wouldn't stay for me if I begged him. He doesn't care about me, much less love me. He may have helped me before only to do good.
Maybe I should remember one thing from now on. As a divorced woman, I shouldn't fantasize about love. Terrific men don't belong to me.
"Aren't you hungry?" he asks softly.
"No, off you go," I speak in a muffled voice while shaking my head.
There is only one thought in my mind. I can weep without any scruples when he's gone.
A hand raises my chin and forces me to look him in the eye. I quickly wipe away the tears from my eyes and ask, "What are you doing?"
I close my eyes tightly in a vain attempt to hold back my tears.
In the end, I give up fighting back the tears and shout, "What on earth do you want? Can't you just leave me alone?"
"I know you don't want to stay with me, so just go! If that's not enough, I can get out of here now!"
As I speak, I lift up the quilt and walk outside without putting on my slippers. My mind is in a mess, and I feel especially ashamed. If I'd known it, I wouldn't have asked him.
Harrison puts his hand in my way.
"Harrison, don't go too far!" The bitterness and tears have congealed into hatred.
He seems to be a little helpless. Standing in front of me, he puts his hands on my shoulders and says softly, "I was just gonna cook for you. Am I wrong?"
"No!" I look away and answer in annoyance.
"So why are you angry with me?"
His question weighs down me like a stone on my chest. I ask with grievance, "Is it fun to fool me?"