Nathan Moore followed Samuel Zane to the study upstairs, sitting in the sofa while Titus Zane occasionally glanced towards the stairs, his anxious expression caught in Abigail Zimrman’s eyes.
There was a warmth on the back of her hand. It was Abigail Zimrman gripping her hand and placing it between both of hers, gently patting and softly comforting.
"Titus, don’t worry, your grandfather won’t be too harsh on him."
Titus Zane managed a forced smile, "Aunt Abigail, I’m not worried."
Abigail Zimrman laughed, chiding gently, "This child, obviously worried but still won’t admit it," and noticing Titus Zane’s embarrassed gaze cast downwards, she patted her hand again with a sigh, saying,
"In this way, you’re nothing like Nathan; he’s warm and open, unwilling to hide anything. You are too shy, child. Society nowadays is not like in your aunt’s ti. With your tender and kind nature, you’ll be taken advantage of."
Titus Zane forced a smile again, "Thank you for the reminder, Aunt Abigail. I understand."
"Silly child, still being so formal with your aunt."
Abigail Zimrman chided again with a laugh, perhaps intentionally changing the subject to distract Titus Zane from her concerns and continued her earnest persuasion, "My child, listen to , in the future, with people, with matters, we give way when we should, and face what we must. But if soone tries to bully or take advantage of us, we’re not pushovers; we must resist. Should anything happen, you have your uncle and aunt to rely on!"
"I’ll rember that." Titus Zane was moved, for the first ti in thirty-one years, soone directly offered to support him. The touch of emotion was indescribable. From their first eting, he could tell Aunt Abigail genuinely cared about him. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been so excited upon seeing him, gripping his hand, her eyes rimd red...
Caught up in emotion, footsteps sounded from upstairs, hurried. Titus Zane looked up at the staircase. It was Nathan Moore, quickly descending while holding the banister, eyes cast downwards and his handso face tense.
Titus Zane stood up and went to him, standing at the bottom of the stairs, "Nathan Moore..."
Nathan Moore managed a forced smile, clearly strained, standing in front of Titus Zane and gently touching the top of his head, speaking with a voice that was sowhat off.
"I can’t take you back for now. Wait for , I’ll definitely co to take you back after a while."
After saying that, he nodded to Abigail Zimrman standing in front of the sofa, then strode towards the door of the small western-style house.
"Nathan Moore! Where are you going!" Titus Zane suddenly turned around, shouting with a voice cracking from distress, watching the lonely figure of the man. A bad premonition surged. The grandfather must have said sothing, wounding his pride. Otherwise, why would such a dominant man easily yield.
"Going ho, I’ll co back to take you ho after a few days." His firm words carried little emotion, while Nathan Moore’s face, darkened like the clouded night sky without the sun’s brilliance, seed dim.
Samuel Zane’s voice still echoed in his ears.
... What right do you have to be Titus’s husband? Let’s not even ntion you forcing her to get an abortion, even watching her jump down from upstairs, what right do you have to claim to be her man!
But we are legally married, we got our certificate three years ago.
Legally married? Don’t think a marriage certificate can bind my granddaughter. Tomorrow, I can have its color changed!
"What should I do? I don’t want to live here!" Titus Zane cried out, screaming at Nathan Moore’s retreating figure. Her tears fell like pearls off a string, rolling down her cheeks one by one, "Nathan Moore, take back! I said I don’t want to live here!"
Hearing the woman’s heart-wrenching cries, Nathan Moore suddenly stopped in his tracks, turned around and quickly ca back, grabbed Titus Zane’s hand, and together they headed for the door.
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