The pain exploded in her body like a detonated bomb and scattered her consciousness into pieces.
By the time the banquet ended, she had barely regained her senses.
Once the guests had all left, Rea lingered behind. Ian didn’t even hesitate before he made a declaration, "From now on, Rea will be moving in with me."
Then, he turned to look at Clara, eyes sharp, as if expecting she would make trouble or a fuss.
However, the pain was so overwhelming that Clara did not have any energy left to utter objection or make trouble. She just simply said, "Okay."
She felt she had given the correct answers but Ian frowned and there was confusion in his eyes.
Just then, Rea playfully nudged him and grinned. "Dear Young Master Cumberland, which room am I staying in?" She then blocked Clara from his view.
Ian stunned for a while before chuckling and affectionately tapping her nose. Then, he pulled her into his arms and said, "What do you mean which room? Of course, you’re staying in mine."
“You’re so annoying.”
A flush of red crept up Rea's cheeks as she playfully collapsed into Ian's arms. Their faces drew closer until their lips met and their kiss deepened with every passing second.
Clara clenched her teeth and forced herself to stay silent. Her heart had already died, so why did it still hurt?
The three of them headed upstairs together.
As soon as Rea sat down on the sofa, her gaze landed on a peculiar clock. Curious, she reached out to touch it.
“This clock is so strange," she said. "Why does it only have six markers left?”
“Don’t touch it!” Clara yelled. She couldn’t hold back her panic. She lunged forward and snatched the clock into her arms.
Her reaction was so extreme that Ian instinctively frowned, his expression darkened with irritation as he scolded, "It’s just a clock. If Rea likes it, let her have it. You can always buy another one.”
However, this clock represented her remaining days in the world. Each mark was a day of her life ticking away and this was not something she could explain easily. So, all she could give was some random excuses, "It was a gift for winning a speech competition from my school. It has sentimental value for me."
“I’ve never seen you care about silly trinkets before,” Ian scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain as he frowned.