Justin Battleson lowered his gaze, his fingers gently grazing his lips, as if he was mourning sothing with absolute devotion and care.
He looked up at the woman, witnessing the sa familiar coldness in her eyes that he always had.
From the mont they t again, such expressions, he had seen too much.
His fingertips trembled slightly, he tilted his head back, closed his eyes for a brief mont, and when he reopened them, his eyes were filled with familiar extre pride.
Every ti he showed such expressions, he was strategizing in the business arena, or when he was determined to navigate the world of human relationships.
But this ti was different.
This ti, it was for a decent farewell to Charlotte Thompson.
He took a step forward and spread his arms in an open embrace.
However, just as he expected, Charlotte Thompson frowned slightly, the chill in her eyes intensified and she stepped back in disgust.
The ethereal sound of the wind highlighted his husky voice. All his farewells seed to be carried off by the wind.
"Don’t step back anymore. This ti, I won’t move forward."
His voice was filled with exhaustion and a touch of lancholy.
In that mont, Charlotte Thompson almost wavered.
But she tightened her fists, pursed her pale lips, and turned her head away with icy indifference.
Still in her eyes was the vast snowfield, barren and desolate.
Sothing pierced Justin Battleson’s heart like a sharp knife.
The heart-wrenching pain spread from his heart to his limbs, the constant throbbing of pain almost made it hard for him to breathe.
He didn’t know when, but in front of Charlotte Thompson, he had beco powerless.
His fingertips turned slightly pale, he looked at the woman in front of him with longing, wanting to reach out and smooth out the wrinkles between her brows, but he withdrew as if he’d been electrocuted.
He suddenly realized, all attempts of reconciliation were aningless in the face of love.
After a mont of silence, with a weak, forced laugh, he gently said, "Miss Thompson, the flowers you planted in the pots by the villa door have blood. If you have ti, co and pick them up."
Charlotte paused, slightly taken aback.
She rembered that she had indeed planted a pot of flowers outside the villa several years ago. Forget--nots, her favorite.
Forget--nots, it symbolizes lost love as everlasting love.
She closed her eyes, masking the overwhelming pain in her eyes, and coldly said, "The pot of flowers was planted casually. I never really expected it to survive or bloom. If it bothers you, Mr. Battleson, just throw it away."
Throw away...
Justin’s eyes clouded with despair.
So his love was like the forget--nots by the door, easily discarded?
With a bitter smile, he softly said, "That’s fine then, Miss Thompson. I wish you happiness and a smooth journey. I won’t bother you anymore."
After saying this, he turned around and walked away, each step as if treading on his own heart, causing unbearable pain.
Behind him, Charlotte slowly turned her head to see his lonely figure. Gradually, her eyes began to redden.
I won’t bother you anymore...
Charlotte closed her eyes hard.
Wasn’t this the ending she wanted? She should be happy, right?
But why did her heart hurt so much?
After a while, a black car slowly pulled up beside her. Jack Bryant removed his sunglasses and poked his head out of the car window.
He looked at Charlotte’s expression and carefully said, "Miss, let’s go ho."
Only then did Charlotte bring herself back from her trance, and got into the car.
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