A sharp pain pierced Yvan's heart.
Was all the progress he'd made these past few days about to be undone?
No! He wouldn't let it happen!
A dead silence descended, broken only by Yvan's strained breathing.
He seemed genuinely furious.
Winifred kept her eyes down. "Whatever your motives were, I still want to thank you."
"I don't want your thanks," Yvan said, his fists clenched. "I just want to be with you!"
She looked at him. "Yvan, you're living in the past. We broke up seven years ago. You keep calling me by my old name, but I'm not that person anymore. I'm Winifred Spencer, a woman who no longer loves you."
"It doesn't matter what your name is, you're still you." Yvan was like a cornered animal, staring at her fiercely. "Winifred, I won't be like I was seven years ago, letting you go with a single word. This time, I'm in charge. I will stay by your side. I won't let go. You want to go to Riverside City? Fine, I'll go to Riverside City. If you go abroad, I'll follow you there."
Winifred frowned. "Yvan, what's the point of shamelessly clinging to me?"
"It has a point to me." He grabbed her hand, a wild look in his eyes. "As long as I'm with you, anything has a point."
She struggled to pull her hand away. "It's pointless to me. Yvan, don't waste your time on me. It's never going to happen between us."
"I don't care." He held her fast. "As long as I can be near you. You can hit me, you can curse me. Like when you slapped me before—I wasn't even angry. Winifred, getting hit by you... it almost felt like a masochistic thrill."
Winifred stared at him, aghast. "Yvan, you're insane."
Yvan smiled. "I am. I'm insane for you."
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