"Okay."
Christine Quinn didn't say anything more.
Jonathon Gibson struggled in his heart for a long time and finally spoke up, "That... I'm sorry, Christine, I shouldn't have been so impulsive today."
"It's not your fault, Skyler Jones hit you first."
"I didn't want to fight him, but he..."
"Don't say it, Jonathon, I know his personality very well." He's always so self-righteous.
"I'm sorry, when I saw him holding you, I said those words impulsively, I..."
"It's not your fault... let's go back to the hotel and tend to your wounds first."
Skyler Jones sat on the sofa in the room, holding a glass of amber-colored liquor.
Suddenly, he raised the liquor and poured it down his throat in one gulp.
The liquor slid down his throat, igniting a burning pain like a fire.
Skyler Jones casually threw the glass aside, and his mood gradually calmed down.
This was the first time in his life he lost his composure and self-control like this...
