It’s half past midnight, and Renee Winslow still hasn’t slept.
She simply couldn’t fall asleep, not a hint of drowsiness, but her head felt heavy and stuffy, like a daze after recovering from a severe illness.
After returning from Simon Forrester’s bar, she barely ate dinner. With the combined persuasion of Shay and Aunty Warren, she forced herself to take a few bites.
After dinner, she returned to her room upstairs and waited for Jack Yates by the window on the sofa. She waited until now, but Jack Yates still hadn’t returned.
Simon Forrester had said that if Jack Yates returned on ti at night, it wouldn’t be too serious, but if he didn’t, then it ant he was in serious trouble.
It seems now that Jack Yates indeed encountered a very tricky situation.
She wanted to call him, to ask him what happened, whether it was serious, and then express her concern as a girlfriend and say so comforting words.
She picked up her phone, set it down, picked it up again, and set it down again, several tis over. In the end, she didn’t make the call.
What good would it do if she called?
Besides asking the powerless question "When will you be back," she didn’t dare to ask "What happened to you?" Asking would only humiliate herself.
If, if she wasn’t just a poor, unfinished college student right now.
If she had already graduated, had a job, and achieved so success in a certain field.
Then, even if she didn’t have a prominent family background or extensive connections, she would call him without hesitation.
She would even rush to his side the mont she heard he was in trouble, to be with him.
But as things stand, she doesn’t have the courage to be by his side.
Ti passed by, second by second.
It’s one o’clock now, and Jack Yates still hasn’t returned.
Renee Winslow hugged her legs, her face buried in her knees. Tears flowed down her cheeks, soaked her legs, and then trickled down to wet the sofa.
The tears blurred her vision. Through the dim glow of the tears, she seed to see a brilliant drone light show.
A dozen drones in the night sky ford a line of poetry.
To achieve swimming side by side, why fear death; to be mandarin ducks, envy not the immortals.
It was the most beautiful love ssage she had ever heard.
That night, under fireworks with warm breezes, it ignited in her heart, blossoming into glorious flowers deep within, burning away her entire youth.
For the rest of her life, no one would ever ignite another cluster of fireworks in her heart.
Because there would never be another Jack Yates.
Just when Renee Winslow was almost out of breath from crying, the phone suddenly rang.
Her body stiffened suddenly, Renee Winslow froze for a mont, scrambled to grab the phone, but because she had been sitting with her legs hugged for too long, her limbs were a bit numb. Her hand shook, the phone dropped to the floor, and she hurriedly bent down to pick it up, only to fall from the sofa as her legs gave way.
In a panic, she picked up the phone and saw the caller was Jack Yates. The tears she had just managed to hold back fell once more.
"Hello." She answered the call, hastily wiping away her tears, speaking with a heavy sob, "Jack Yates, where are you? Are you coming back tonight?"
Before, she never called Jack Yates to ask if he was coming back. Even if he didn’t return all night, she wouldn’t call to ask, in fact, she felt relieved he didn’t co back.
But now, she fervently hoped Jack Yates would co back at once, appear by her side imdiately.
Jack Yates actually wanted to break up with her. He knew Renee Winslow had always wanted to leave him.
And indeed, he had reached a point where he had to make a choice.
The pressure from his mother, the resistance from outside, and Renee Winslow’s strong aversion to him.
He indeed had no reason to persist further.
"Renee Winslow." Jack Yates’ voice was low and hoarse, as if his throat had been burnt by carbon, raspy with a grating feel, "Do you still want to leave now?"
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