Scorched
I'm really happy that you're defending me, Estie.
The sound of glass shattering broke through the moment. Tristan had crushed his wine glass, and blood was dripping from his hand.
"I'm hurt, Esther."
"You should go to the hospital," I replied coldly.
"Come with me." He looked at me with pleading eyes.
"You hurt your hand, not your legs. You can walk. All I can do is call an ambulance for you."
Upon hearing that, he forced a bitter smile.
"You really don't love me anymore. If you're willing to turn around, we can get married right away. Give me one more chance, Esther.
Bab Populer