"Why didn’t you sell it?" Angel’s voice was soft yet filled with curiosity, her eyes wide, as if she were desperate to understand the reason behind his choices. She hung on every word he spoke, as though her very future hinged on his response.
Tryson felt an overwhelming tide of emotions crash over him, and for a mont, he was paralyzed, unable to form the words that swirled in his mind.
He stepped closer to her, an almost frantic urgency in his movents, his hand reaching out to grasp hers, squeezing it tightly as if trying to anchor himself to the reality of the mont.
He shook his head, a whirlwind of confusion, regret, and sorrow flooding his chest.
His voice, when it finally erged, was barely a whisper, but the weight of it was unbearable. "Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t bring myself to do it," he confessed, his words laced with pain and guilt.
His eyes, filled with a storm of emotion, searched hers for so hint of understanding.
Angel studied him for a mont, her expression hardening, and then, with a slow, deliberate shake of her head, she responded, her voice touched by a subtle disappointnt, "Oh, Tryson, you really should have. You had the chance to sell it, just like how you sold out."
Her eyes, once filled with warmth, now shimred with the cold sting of betrayal, and she couldn’t hide the ache that still lingered in her heart.
"Angel, you have to hear out!" Tryson’s voice cracked with raw desperation, the words tumbling out before he could stop them.
But she didn’t wait, cutting him off with a raised hand that silenced him instantly.
"Sincerely, now is not the ti," she said, her voice steady but filled with an unmistakable edge. "You had your chance earlier. Now, I’m not here to reconcile with you. All I want is for this year to end, so I can finally rid myself of every single mory of you. Once and for all." Her words, though calm, were like a sharp blade cutting through the fragile bond they had once shared.
With a final, deliberate motion, she turned to leave, her hand pulling away from his grasp with a force that sent a jolt of pain through him.
Tryson stood frozen, his mind racing, but his body unwilling to move.
He opened his mouth, but no words ca out, and his chest tightened with the desperate need to make her understand, to explain, to make things right. But she was already halfway to the door.
Then, just as her fingers brushed the doorknob, she froze, her body tensing at the sound of his voice, raw and trembling with emotion.
"You might believe I’ve betrayed you," Tryson said, his voice barely more than a whisper, "but honestly, I couldn’t get you out of my thoughts, even if I tried!"
The words hung in the air, and Angel felt her heart stutter, a deep, unexpected thud of emotion that she hadn’t been prepared for.
She gripped the doorknob tighter, her hand trembling with a mix of anger and sothing else.
She turned slowly, her lips curving into a bitter, knowing smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. "You might have been thinking of ," she said, her voice dripping with a mixture of pain and disbelief, "but I’m sure it’s not what I had in mind, Tryson. Was it because of the contract? Because you feel obligated? I promise you, once I’m no longer here, I’ll make sure to fulfill it. You can be certain of that." Her gaze never wavered from his, and for a mont, she held his stare, unwavering and resolute.
"Angel, forget the contract. Forget everything," Tryson suddenly exclaid, his voice rough and filled with an emotion he could no longer suppress. He moved toward her, his hands slamming against the door, the impact echoing through the room.
He trapped her between his arms, the tension in the room thick and suffocating. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked up into his eyes, her mind whirling, trying to understand what he was trying to say.
"Why would you want to forget the contract?" she asked, her voice filled with a mix of astonishnt and fear.
His eyes, dark with simring emotion, seed to pierce through her, and in that mont, she wasn’t sure if the anger in his gaze was born from his own struggle or if it was directed at her, for not understanding him, for not trusting him.
For a long mont, he was silent, his jaw clenched so tightly it seed as though it might shatter. His gaze never left hers, and Angel felt a chill run through her. She had no idea what was going on in his mind, but the raw, unspoken tension between them was enough to make her question everything.
"Tryson, I need an answer," she demanded, her voice trembling, both with frustration and fear. "What do you want from ? Why do you want to forget about the contract? Is there sothing else you need from ?"
Her words hung in the air, heavy with the hope that he would finally tell her the truth—the truth she wasn’t sure she even wanted to hear.
But instead, Tryson stood there, silent, his eyes closed, his entire body tense. His inability to speak felt like a crushing weight on both of them, and Angel’s heart sank in her chest as she realized that perhaps he would never be able to give her the answers she so desperately needed.
"You’re not going to say anything, are you?" she said, the hurt in her voice betraying her.
She was done waiting for him to make sense of the chaos he had caused.
"Tryson, you have no idea how hard it’s been for ," Angel continued, her frustration finally breaking through. "The lies, the gas, the pretenses... If only you had been honest from the start—if only you had treated like the nobody I really am in your world, I could have kept my distance. I wouldn’t be here, lost in all these conflicting emotions and carrying this child, this responsibility that’s been thrust upon ."
Tryson’s expression shifted then; his confusion clear as he blinked in disbelief. "Wait... the child?" he asked, his voice hoarse with a mixture of surprise and concern.
And in that instant, Angel knew—she had made a mistake. Her eyes widened as the realization hit her.
She had said too much.
But despite the chaos in her heart, despite the pain of it all, Angel gave him a bitter, hollow smile, trying to mask the anguish that threatened to break free.
"Yes, Tryson," she said, her voice cracking with emotion. "This child... This little one. That’s why I’m still here. Because, sohow, I’m stuck with you, carrying this precious child in my belly."
The air between them thickened, heavy with unsaid words and unresolved feelings.
Tryson, his voice thick with disbelief and pain, asked softly, "What do you an, Angel?" His gaze held hers, filled with questions that had no easy answers.
"Don’t you get it, Tryson? I don’t feel safe with you, Tryson," she said, her voice filled with raw emotion. "Today was just a glimpse of what I might have to face. And two months ago—two months ago, you showed exactly what my future could look like. So, tell , Tryson—can I truly feel secure in your presence?"
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