Requiem of a Broken Heart

Chapter 711:

“It’s nothing,” Brian said flatly, gazing out the window, lost in thought. “Besides, it wasn’t for you, so there’s no reason to feel grateful.”

The debt he carried wasn’t hers. Helping her was nothing more than a way to fool himself—an empty attempt to lessen his guilt.

Not long after Reba left, Brian dozed off on the sofa.

About an hour later, Ronald arrived and called out, “Mr. White!” His voice stirred Brian awake, and he slowly opened his eyes.

“Is everything settled?” Brian asked.

Ronald nodded.

As per Brian’s instructions, he had personally accompanied several senior board members home after the annual meeting as a gesture of respect.

“Would you like me to drive you home?”

Brian waved dismissively. “No need. I’m staying here. Do I have spare clothes?”noveldrama

“Yes, I packed enough for a week.”

“Alright. You can head out now.”

Ronald gave a brief nod but hesitated just as he was about to step out. After a brief pause, he turned back and said, “A few of the board members asked me to relay a message to you.”

“What is it?”

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“They think you’ve been pushing yourself too hard and want you to take better care of your health. Even the employees have also been under a lot of pressure these past two years. Some of them suggested organizing a trip, a chance for everyone to unwind a little.”

Brian sat in silence, his face hidden in the dim light, making it impossible to read his expression.

Ronald couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and as the seconds dragged on, he started to wonder if his suggestion had been a mistake.

Just when Ronald was about to give up on a response, Brian finally said, “Go ahead. Let them enjoy themselves.”

“Will you be joining?”

“Yeah, I’ll go.”

A week later, the White Group arranged a group trip and booked the most luxurious estate in the city.

Brian went along but didn’t join any of the activities. Instead, he took a boat out on the water and spent the whole day alone, deep in thought.

At last, when he stepped back onto shore, he suddenly caught the faint sound of someone crying nearby.

The voice was small—like that of a child.

.

.

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