For his family, he could pretend that none of this had ever happened. He could pretend that
everything was fine, just as they wanted. He could pretend to be Guinevere‘s husband. He could pretend
to be Zachary‘s father. But he could not and would not pretend to love Guinevere or treat her
affectionately as she wished.
Guinevere wiped away the rainwater on her face. The tears that she shed had disappeared into the
rain.
She suddenly burst into laughter. “So you‘re still mad about that, huh?” she taunted. She held her head
in her hands, as if all her memories came flooding back to her all at once. “I‘ve been chasing after you for
so many years,” she said, almost rambling. “Did that mean nothing to you at all? Why can‘t you just turn
around and notice me for once?” “Too many women have been chasing after me, Gwen,” he replied.
“Too many to notice them
Weston turned around and walked away.
“But I‘m not like them!” Guinevere ran after Weston and wrapped her arms around him from behind. “I‘m
nothing like any of them! I‘ve always loved you more than any other woman in
the world! Isn‘t that enough?”
Weston was no longer in the mood to talk to her.
“Do you still expect me to believe that?” He tore her arms off his body and shoved her away.” Keep your
distance from me, and I‘ll let you keep whatever dignity you still have! But if you ever cross the line
again, I swear I‘ll break all contact with you!” As he spoke, his eyes gleamed suddenly as he slowly
stepped forward. “I know that you remember everything that happened a year ago,” he told her, his gaze
piercing straight into her eyes. “For now, I won‘t question if your amnesia is real. Whether you want to
keep things the way they are, or if you want the whole truth to be revealed that‘s all up to you,
Guinevere. Don‘t try my patience.”
He then turned away coldly and strode away, no longer giving Guinevere a second look while his tall
frame gradually disappeared in the rain.
Guinevere quietly watched as Weston disappeared in the distance, completely in shock. Soon, she lost
all self–control and just couldn‘t hold back her tears anymore. She screamed and cried her heart out.
She had only taken one wrong step, yet all the subsequent steps after that seemed to be taking her
further and further away from the right path.
She didn‘t know how long she had stood there crying in the rain, but eventually, her emotions
subsided, and she calmed down a little.
“Miss Cohen,” Ben said as he approached her, his eyes full of pity. “Let me take you home.” From his
perspective, both Guinevere and Stella were clearly victims. He had no idea what went on between
Weston and Guinevere, but from an outsider‘s standpoint, Weston doubtlessly seemed to be a heartless
man. But Stella was innocent too. Guinevere definitely should not have tried to kill her. Although Stella
was in fact still alive and had changed her name and identity, if things had gone slightly differently that
day, she really would have died. In that case, Guinevere would have been fully responsible for the death
of one woman.
So, Ben was not sure whether to feel sorry for Guinevere or condemn her. But she was definitely a
wretched woman,that much he knew. It was almost dawn now. There were basically no other vehicles on
the road. After he made sure that Belle had arrived safely at the hospital and had cleaned up all the
mess, Ben finally reported everything to Weston. Weston glanced at the woman in his car and said
nothing. Guinevere was huddled up with a blanket in the back seat, staring at the man who was silently
driving without any trace of emotion on his face. She was gradually regaining her senses. Her emotions
would be unstable from time to time, but only briefly. She was still lucid most of the time.
“Weston, I‘m so sorry...” she muttered, looking down like a guilty child now that she remembered all the
wrong she had done. “I don‘t know what‘s gotten into me...” Weston glanced at her through the rearview
mirror but made no reply. After a long silence, he finally asked her, “Where do you plan to spend the
night?”
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