Nathan Moore’s heart tightened as he saw her lower her gaze and continue, "Really, after all these years, I’ve never been able to move on."
Titus Zane’s lush lips pursed slightly, her lowered eyelashes trembling fiercely.
Despite her resolve to forget, the unbearable memories of the past still haunted her, unable to be cast aside.
Nathan Moore’s brow furrowed tightly, his grip on the wine glass unconsciously tightening. His lips parted slightly, about to say "I’m sorry," but there, Titus Zane had already started to speak again; her fragmented voice entered his ears like a low murmur, impossible to avoid.
"I now have a phobia of men; no matter the age, if a man gets too close to me, I become irrationally afraid."
As she said this, Titus Zane took a drag of her cigarette, as if trying to suppress the inexplicable fear in her heart, saying that one must be untied by the person who bound them. Perhaps by confiding the knots in her heart to Nathan Moore, she would slowly recover and no longer fear the approach of men.
Watching Titus Zane’s profile, at that moment, Nathan Moore found himself at a loss for words to comfort her. Everything had started because of him. Even though she also bore undeniable responsibility, his actions back then seemed... too extreme.
They could have lived together in harmony, but he chose the most cruel and despicable means.
Recalling how he had pressed her to the bed and vented his fury three years ago, occasionally, he, too, had regrets.
If he hadn’t let go back then, hadn’t agreed to her terms, would they now... have their own baby?
He remembers her drunkenly whispering while embracing him, "...Nathan, let’s live well together, have a baby, and enjoy life with Lily..."
Nathan Moore never considered himself hot-headed. When the responsibility of the family fell on his shoulders after his parents passed away, he knew all too well that he lost the privilege to be hot-headed.
He had to mature earlier than his peers, reining in his youthful restlessness... So, seeing Olivia Zane’s carefree laughter moved him, and he secretly vowed to keep her smiling carefree for life.
Things did not go as planned; if not for the accident at their wedding, he and Olivia Zane perhaps would still be as they were at the beginning.
But, as time passed, things have irrevocably changed.
Looking down at the red liquid in the stemmed glass, Nathan Moore sank into deep self-reproach, when he saw Titus Zane raise her head again and, facing forward, her voluptuous lips curling up as she continued speaking.
"I’ve tried being with many men before."
Nathan Moore abruptly looked up, a stern chill flashing through his obsidian eyes.
Titus Zane took another puff of her cigarette and sipped her red wine.
"Blonde, blue-eyed foreign hunks, Asians, I even tried being with black men."
Titus Zane turned to look at Nathan Moore, her smiling eyes filled with an emotion Nathan Moore couldn’t comprehend.
Nathan Moore’s expression was rather grim, dark as a cloud covering the sun, not a trace of brightness or cheer, only a heavy oppressive air that made it hard to breathe.
But Titus Zane was not afraid, not in the slightest.
For some reason, even though she was very afraid of him three years ago, now, she liked confiding in him.
Perhaps it really was because the person who tied the bell must be the one to untie it.
She couldn’t quite understand herself.
Meeting Nathan Moore’s somber eyes, Titus Zane curved her lips into a smile, took another drag of her cigarette, and continued.
"But no matter how close I got with any man, I could never take that final step. Once, at the most crucial moment, I even threw up all over the guy."
Nathan Moore’s eyes narrowed sharply, his grip on the stemmed glass tightening as well at Titus Zane’s words "the most crucial moment."