CHAPTER 166: CHAPTER 166: DOES IT STILL HURT?

She was trapped in the marsh of despair, and he was too miserly even to help her out.

Amelia thought despondently, would he only care for her, and look her in the eyes, when her life was nearing its end?

She had endured being kept at arm’s length, his blowing hot and cold.

And was tortured by the pain of an uncertain relationship.

Thomas laughed lightly. Her so-called love, how much was true and how much was a lie? If it was real love, would it take her two years to realize it? If she truly loved him, why on earth did she choose Frank Mitchell in the first place? If Frank hadn’t gone bankrupt, would she have looked back at him? The more he analyzed her, the deeper his disappointment grew.

He had never dreamed that one day, the woman he once had feelings for would reappear in front of him. But now that she had, she was nothing like the woman he once knew.

Amelia walked in front of him, looking up at him with sorrowful, misty eyes. "Thomas," she begged, "Please give me another chance, will you?"

Tears of grievance sprang forth from her eyes.

Choked with emotion, she said, "Seeing you with that maniac triggered an insane jealousy in me. I wished I could rip her away from you, throw her far away, so she could never touch you again. But reason told me, I couldn’t do that. I had hurt you before, and I’m already tarnished... So all I could do was watch her get close to you, bear the heart-wrenching pain as I watched you two together. Thomas, I’m human too, I feel pain..."

Amelia nervously pressed the corners of her eyes, weeping helplessly. "I don’t know how much longer I can endure... But no matter how long it takes, I will wait for you to have a change of heart, for the day you’re willing to turn around and look at me."

Thomas’s gaze faltered slightly as he looked at the woman sobbing helplessly before him.

This scene seemed to overlap with a memory of his.

He was somewhat dazed until the burning cigarette butt seared his fingers, snapping him back to his senses. He quickly stubbed it out in the ashtray.

"Thomas, are you alright? Did you hurt your hand?" Amelia asked. Noticing his actions, she quickly took his hand and gently blew on it.

She then raised her head. Her eyes, washed clean by tears, were extraordinarily clear and bright. "Thomas, does it still hurt?"

"It doesn’t hurt anymore."

Amelia gave a gentle laugh, her eyes curved into a lovely crescent shape.

He sighed deeply, withdrew his hand, his thin lips pressing together for a moment. "Samuel."

"Huh?" Amelia’s heart was pounding wildly.

"You should go home."

After a long wait, all she got was this answer. Amelia couldn’t hide her disappointment and said bitterly, "Well... I won’t disturb your work then."

Thomas responded softly. Amelia wiped away her tears and forced a smile before bypassing him and rushing out.

After she left K Group, Amelia took a taxi back to the manor.

While waiting for a traffic light, she saw a familiar face in a black Rolls-Royce nearby.

She quickly rolled down her car window. The other person apparently sensed her gaze and lowered his half-open window completely.

A handsome face with a dash of melancholy was staring at her without blinking.

"Frank Mitchell!"

Amelia gasped.

Gazing at him incredulously, that face, she could never forget; even if it turned into ashes, she would recognize it.