After all this turmoil, Su Jia was extremely exhausted.
She turned her head to look at Lu Yanhe, feeling like his previously intense aura had softened somewhat.
She wondered if it was because of their son's presence.
Su Jia's gaze traveled upward, finally resting on his eyes, where she saw a sudden surge of sorrowful light.
Her heart pounded in panic, unsure if she was seeing things.
But no, the pain in his eyes was indeed distinctly visible.
Lu Yanhe closed his eyes briefly, then suddenly pulled her into his embrace, his chin gently rubbing against her soft black hair, murmuring lowly, "Su Jia, I hate you..."
Su Jia, I hate you.
But what I hate even more is myself.
I hate myself for not finding you sooner, for letting you endure so much pain alone.
His voice was extremely hoarse, as if he had a severe cold, and Su Jia clearly heard the tremor that spilled from his throat.
She mustered the courage to wrap her arms around his waist, almost using all her strength.
