Facade of Love (Yvette Scott and Idris Young) novel Chapter 473

What the hell was going on here?

"Do you still want to look for him?" A low voice came from behind me. It was Idris.

I turned around and saw him in a different robe, looking at me with a slightly cold expression.

I pursed my lips. After going through so much, I was no longer the emotionally unstable Yvette I used to be. I looked at him and said, "You know what I want to do, and you also know that you can't stop me, right?"

Since he spoke to me at the Clearwater Residence and said those things, he understood what I wanted to do.

He looked at me with a calm expression, devoid of any emotions. "What if I insist on stopping you?"

I furrowed my brow. "Idris, I have my own path in life. I can't be the same Yvette Scott I was before, who could love you and marry you like any ordinary woman. Maybe in an alternate reality we could have children and grow old together."

"Why not?" He took a few steps toward me, gripping my shoulders and looking into my eyes. "Yvette, we can start over. I won't marry Alice, and I won't let her affect our relationship. Lucas, the border… None of that is our concern. We just need to be together."

Listening to his voice, which had become urgent to the point of trembling, I remained unusually calm. I looked at him and said, "It won't affect anything? Officer Jackson's death, your father's death, and the deaths of those innocent people—none of that will affect us?"

His thin lips trembled, and he did not speak for a long time. I knew he could not easily let go of these matters, just like me. He had witnessed Kobe being blown to pieces, the father he had searched and yearned for for over ten years. In the end, he could not even say a proper goodbye or fulfill his duty as a son by collecting his father's complete remains.

As a son, how could he let go so easily? Even if it seemed like nothing had happened, the pain was not something that could be seen with the naked eye. It was something that ran deeper.

Oftentimes, the more painful something was, the calmer the affected person would seem.

Two people who could love each other often shared a deep connection. He knew what I wanted to do, and I naturally understood the hatred in his heart. He did not want me to take risks, and he had his own plans. Still, how could I sit still and do nothing?

As we faced each other for a while, he pulled me into his arms tightly as if he wanted to meld me into his flesh and bones.

Sometimes, silence spoke louder than words.