"Sarah, you're speaking out of anger," he assessed.
Sarah pressed her finger to the corner of her eye, no longer hiding her reddened eyes. As she looked at him, tears did not fall. She had cried enough over the past few days; today she didn't want to cry.
She, Sarah, Miss Joseph.
Having been downcast and avoiding things for so many days, today she was set on cutting everything off cleanly—marriage, funeral, it would no longer concern her!
It was the first time Michael Jude had seen Sarah like this. Her eyes were red, her nose blushed red too. She looked at him, vulnerable, aggrieved, and stubborn.
He inexplicably felt a tightness in his throat, unexpectedly unable to utter a word.
He heard her say.
"Michael, you have no heart. Your heart stayed in Europe, stayed in that riot, died together with her."
Upon hearing this, Michael Jude's pupils slightly contracted; she knew...
Sarah continued.
