“My father is downstairs?“
He climbed down from the bed, wearing the robe around his shoulders. “I ’11 go wash up. You should tidy yourself up and get up too. Ask the servants to prepare whatever you want for breakfast.“
He acted so naturally as if this was not the first time something like this happened between them.
Looking at his broad back, Luna bit her lip. “Joshua.“
He stopped.
“What more do you want to say?“
He opened his mouth, not even bothering to turn around, his voice cold and distant, “We’re both adults. Don’t tell me…“
His lips turned up in a sneer, “You want me to take responsibility? You came to me drunk, is this a new mission Malcolm Quinn gave you?“
With that, before she could react, he opened the bathroom door and walked in.
Sitting on the bed, Luna looked at the tightly shut bathroom door, listened to the flow of the running water inside, her heart sinking deep down into the pit of her chest.
His cold attitude reminded her of the countless days and nights when they were together.
He always treated her like that.
Not bothering to listen to her, not taking her feelings and opinions to heart.
In the beginning, she thought he was just unaccustomed to living as a couple, used to his life revolving around himself alone.
Later, she realized, it was not that his life revolved around him alone, he merely did not take her to heart.
She shut her eyes, all corners of her heart aching as if it was sliced by a knife.
After she tidied herself up, she took out her phone. She had two unread messages.
One was from Malcolm. (I ‘m leaving now, an early flight. Contact me if anything happens.]
The other one was from Nigel, two simple words, ( Good morning.]
Luna’s heart ached.
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