Darrel's face showed some reluctance, which actually made me imagine that I still had some weight in his heart.
He stared at the wish papers scattered on the ground and spoke slowly, “Sylvia, you also saw the wishing paper, didn’t you? I fell in love with Ashley and I couldn't just watch her marry a gay and ruin her own happiness.”
“I will get engaged to her first and then find a way to cancel the engagement later. I will still marry you. You will always be my only wife.”
Looking at his confident and condescending look, I suddenly felt relieved.
It turned out that the person I had loved for eight years was nothing more than that.
“Fine then. Let's break up, Darrel. I won't marry you.”
He did not seem to expect that the word break up would come out of my mouth and his face was full of contempt.
“You won’t marry me? You’ve been begging me to marry you for eight years. Besides, you’re almost thirty years old. If you don’t marry me, what will you do?”
His words hit me like a slap, leaving me stunned and momentarily speechless. I never imagined that Darrel, who always carried himself with such elegance, could say something so cruel.