The next morning, when I woke up, Harry had specially prepared breakfast.
He brought the breakfast to my side, his gaze falling on the corners of my eyes, and gently wiped my tears away.
“Don’t cry so early in the morning. You won’t be pretty if you cry.”
There was a hint of tenderness in his eyes, but it lacked the love he had for Emily.
I had once loved those features of his, because back then, his eyes were filled with love for me.
But now, everything had changed.
Halfway through breakfast, Emily arrived with a tote bag.
Watching her familiar figure enter the Somerfield family’s residence felt as if she were the true mistress of this home.
Emily naturally placed the bag on the table and then pulled out a chair to sit next to Harry.
The moment Harry saw her, the calmness in his eyes was instantly replaced by affection.
The fleeting emotion in his eyes pierced my heart.
He claimed to have feelings for me, yet maintained an intimate relationship with Emily.
But if he didn’t have feelings for me, yet he was willing to comfort me.
