Camila didn't say a word, just stared at him with icy eyes.
After a brief silence, she finally spoke. "I'm going back to my room. I don't want to talk right now," she said, her voice as cold as a winter night.
With that, she turned and walked towards the bedroom, leaving Connor standing alone in the living room.
Connor watched her retreat, a wave of helplessness washing over him. Standing in front of the tightly closed door, he felt a pang of loneliness and regret like never before. She was really mad this time.
Camila sat on the edge of her bed, fuming, trying to calm down by herself. She replayed every moment of her relationship with Connor in her mind, and slowly, her anger began to fade. Replacing it was a deep sense of confusion...
The next morning, Camila walked out of her bedroom to find Connor still on the couch, wearing the same clothes from the day before. Clearly, he hadn't gone back to his room all night.
"Morning," Connor said, trying to muster some energy as he saw Camila come out. His voice was hoarse, his eyes tired.
Seeing his haggard face, a ripple of emotion stirred in Camila's heart. She felt a pang of pity but also thought that Connor was using self-pity as a way to apologize and make amends. She couldn't allow him to believe that this tactic would always win her forgiveness.
"Mr. Connor, that trick doesn't work on me anymore," Camila said coolly, turning her face away.
The formal address 'Mr. Connor' cut deep; Connor realized she was genuinely upset and disappointed.
After a moment of silence, Connor spoke slowly, "Cami, I really know I was wrong. I hope you can give me another chance."
Camila ignored him and walked straight to the kitchen to make some coffee.
Just then, David walked in with breakfast and immediately sensed the tension in the air. He frowned in concern.
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