'An impulse surged within her, telling her to charge forward and tear them apart. Annabelle Linton can only be yours.'
'But what was the use in charging forward?'
'It would only lead to more disappointment, more heartbreak.'
She knew that woman. If something happened, Annabelle would never stand by her side.
Leona Grant stood there with her hands in her pockets, a slender figure. Her eyes were serene, and she was quieter than ever before. For all her steely strength, she radiated a pitiable loneliness.
Aaron Wyatt kissed Annabelle Linton and said softly, "Let's go. I'm taking you home."
Home...
'What a warm word.'
Annabelle Linton's eyelashes trembled slightly. A mist of tears welled up in her eyes, reflecting the shimmering glow of the streetlights as she looked at him.
Aaron Wyatt's heart melted completely.
He reached out to pat her head again, then kissed her forehead and said gently, "Don't be sad. It hurts me when you're sad. There, there."
