I think I’d cried all my tears three years ago; back then, tears flowed like a tap, plentiful but worthless.
After Fiona joined the firm, she called me “Nicole” and became like family.
On the day she landed a nationally renowned case, I specially bought a cake to celebrate.
On my way home, I saw Michael’s car. That day, I suddenly felt like teasing them, and as I was about to get out of my car, I suddenly appeared in front of them.
I watched him cross the traffic light, watched him get further and further away from home, and finally stop in front of a secluded hotel.
I watched them go into the room, naturally undress, and embrace. I went crazy, grabbing Fiona’s hair and slapping her face.
That day, Michael grabbed me and threw me against the wall, just like when I was ten years old, blood streaming down my forehead and face.
Back then, his eyes were full of anger; he slashed a neighbor’s neck with a knife, and cried while holding me.
Now, his eyes are still full of anger, but he’s holding another woman.
“You’re crazy! Fiona is pregnant! Are you trying to kill my child?”
I stood there, stunned. They already had a child? I don’t know how many times they’d slept together.