The shock of the scene and the guilt in her heart became tears, spilling uncontrollably from her eyes.

Annabelle Linton’s heart shattered as she looked at him.

She felt like a jinx, bringing disaster to others no matter where she went.

’When will I finally stop hurting people?’

Aaron Wyatt just sat there, eyes downcast and lifeless, silently lost in his own world.

His right hand was wrapped in white gauze, with blood seeping through. Two buttons on his shirt were unfastened, giving him a cold, detached air.

When Leona Grant did it, he looked roguishly handsome, casual, and cool. When Aaron Wyatt did it, he just looked lonely and desolate.

Tears streaming down her face, Annabelle Linton ran to Aaron Wyatt and crouched in front of him. With red-rimmed eyes, she demanded, "Why are you doing this to yourself?!" 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

"Aaron Wyatt, do you think this is funny? Do you have any idea how worried I was about you?!"

Her eyes red, she reached out to stroke the cuts on his face. He hadn’t treated them after his fight with Leona Grant.

Annabelle Linton choked back a sob. "I know you can’t accept or forgive what happened. I know it’s all my fault. You can yell at me, hit me, refuse to forgive me—I won’t say a word. But why would you do this to yourself? Can you even drink?"

During their junior year of college, Vivian Yates had repeatedly framed her, making Leona Grant even more annoyed with Annabelle.

She fell into a slump, grew disillusioned with life, and spent her days getting drunk at bars.

When he found her, she was already quite drunk, and he told her to stop.

She ignored him and kept drinking.

He watched her for a moment, his expression unreadable, then sat down beside her and said quietly, "Go on. I’ll drink with you."

She took a sip. Then he drank the whole bottle. It was hard liquor.

That was hard liquor.

A single sip felt like a knife scraping down your throat, and he had drunk an entire bottle.

He threw up as soon as he finished, wiped his mouth, and said they should continue.

The alcohol was getting to her, but she stubbornly took another drink. So he drank again, too...

After that one, there was blood in his mouth. He coughed and said, "Again."

Crying, she rushed him to the hospital. He was there for a month. They pumped his stomach and diagnosed him with severe internal bleeding. It had damaged several of his organs, and the doctors told him he could never drink again—at most, only the smallest amount.

Annabelle Linton looked at the beer cans littering the floor and her sobs grew more violent. "Aaron Wyatt, why does everyone have to push me like this? Why? Can’t you just be okay? Do you have any idea how much it hurts me to see you destroying yourself over me?"

’The passive one is always the one who gets pushed. That’s right. He was pushing me.’

Aaron Wyatt looked at Annabelle Linton in disbelief. "Annabelle?"

Annabelle Linton didn’t answer, her lips pressed tight as tears streamed down her face.

Alcohol always slowed one’s reactions.

It took a long moment for Aaron Wyatt to react. His eyes misted over. He pulled Annabelle Linton into a hug as a tear finally escaped the corner of his eye. "Annabelle, you’re here? I thought... I thought you’d abandoned me..."

He held her tighter, his words a choked, jumbled mess. "I was so... so heartbroken. I came back from my business trip... and saw you getting a room with him. I stayed up for two days straight to finish my work early. I was supposed to be back next week, but I came to surprise you... Why did I have to find out the truth? I can do anything for you that he can! I don’t want to be a tool you use to provoke him..."

"Are you an idiot? When did I ever say you were a tool?!" Annabelle Linton cried, hitting him in exasperation.

Men really had a tendency to get hung up on things like this. When it came to matters of the heart, their common sense seemed to vanish. The slightest unfounded suspicion was enough to send their imaginations running wild.