Mabel Quinn slightly furrowed her brow, not understanding what he ant by "too late," but before she could make sense of it, his voice reached her ears again, "Do you love your daughter very much?"
"Of course." She affird without hesitation.
His thin lips slightly curled, "How much do you love her?"
"I’m willing to give her the best of everything I have," she said. This truly reflected her feelings, just as she wanted to provide her daughter with the best living environnt possible, ensuring her daughter wouldn’t bear any bad shadows due to the absence of her father.
She played both mother and father roles, though it was exhausting, she was willing, as long as the little one could have more happiness and joy, not wanting to miss any part of her growth in life.
Kyle Kinston couldn’t quite explain the feeling surging in his chest. There was shock, annoyance, and... jealousy!
What was he jealous of? Jealous that while both were life-stricken, her daughter could receive her love, whereas his mother was stingy with her love towards him?
Even when his mother occasionally smiled at him unintentionally, he could savor it for a long ti.
"Why don’t you tell a story too?" he suddenly suggested.
She was taken aback, "The stories I tell are children’s stories; you don’t need to listen to those," she replied.
"But I want to hear them," he said. At this mont, a hint of longing flared in his phoenix eyes, "You’re not , how do you know what I need?"
At this mont, she suddenly recalled the tis when he was feverish, with the mind of a 5/6-year-old, she had told stories to that version of him too.
Mabel Quinn took a deep breath and began narrating stories, as if telling them to his 5/6-year-old self. She wasn’t sure how many stories she had ended up telling.
In any case, she kept telling them until she was completely drowsy, her eyelids were drooping.
"If you want to sleep, then go ahead and sleep." Upon hearing these words, she felt relieved, tilted her head, and drifted off.
anwhile, Kyle Kinston watched the woman sleeping beside him, his dark phoenix eyes filled with contemplation. It was already 3 a.m., so surely she was tired; it seed perfectly natural, yet he felt no urge to sleep at all.
While she was telling him those stories just now, he surprisingly felt a sense of happiness.
Happiness... just for a few fairy tales? He chuckled, stood up, and leaned over to scoop her up horizontally, though at the mont he picked her up, he froze.
It felt as though he’d done this many tis before, carrying a strong sense of familiarity, and her body seed to fit perfectly within his arms.
She was slender and light, and he could barely feel her weight. He carried her over to the bed.
As he placed her on the bed and was about to pull the blanket over her with one hand, she stirred awake, murmuring, "Kyle Kinston..."
His body stiffened suddenly, like a myriad of feelings were about to gush forth.
"That man in your heart, how much do you love him?" he murmured the question.
She appeared to hear it, mumbling, "I love him very much... for a lifeti, never apart... Do you know... so people can love many people in a lifeti, but so people, their life’s emotions... only... only enough to love one person... Once love is exhausted, there’s no energy left to love again..." Just like once, she thought she would never part from him for a lifeti, growing old together, but in the end, reality couldn’t be overco.
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