A dull pain suddenly surged in Beryl's heart. It was a kind of pain she had never experienced in her twenty years of life. It was different from the emotion she felt when she saw Amir lying weak on the hospital bed. It was a pain that went beyond blood ties and reached deep into her heart and bones.
"Why did you drink so much?" She put the white lunch box she was holding aside and gestured in the air with her slender fingers. "I brought you sandwiches and dumplings. Do you want to eat something?"
She was afraid they would get cold, so she reminded him quickly.
Only then did Marcellus notice the plastic bag she was holding, with transparent white lunch boxes inside and a small vapor on the lid, indicating the food was still hot.
In the adjacent bag were two boxes of unopened medicine, and there was no need to say who they were for. There was no third person in this room.
After seeing the old man earlier, Marcellus had gone from extreme rage to extreme restraint. He closed himself off, not wanting to hear any sound or see any images, but in doing so, those memories that surged from the depths of his heart became even clearer and more vivid.
He had a past he couldn't look back on, and every scene that appeared before his eyes threatened to devour him.
But now she appeared, walking up to him alive and right in front of him. Her most genuine concern and worry, he could see it all. Her eyes were clear, without any impurities.
Marcellus couldn't describe what he felt at this moment. Including seeing her now, he even thought pessimistically, what qualification did this shabby and wretched self have to love her?
Seeing him silent, Beryl felt a little helpless, not knowing what to do to pull him out of his deep thoughts.
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