In the cafe, Magnus took his time stirring his coffee. Yet, the first sentence out of Clifford’s mouth made him pause.
“Give her back to me. I can give you anything in exchange.”
Magnus arched an eyebrow at him. “Anything?”
“Yes,” Clifford said in a gravelly voice. “Sinclair Group’s shares, land in Jolsville, my assets abroad, and…”
He trailed off and closed his eyes. “I can even bring Tiff back and get her to apologize to Beth
in person.”
Magnus abruptly started laughing. He put down his cup of coffee, a trace of mockery flashing through his eyes.
“Do you still not get it even now, Clifford? Lilibeth isn’t some commodity. She’s a living person with her own emotions. You once had her heart, but you crushed it with your own hands.”
יחי
He stood up and stared down at Clifford condescendingly. “Now, it’s my turn to love her. As for you…” He chuckled. “Just live with your guilt for the rest of your life.”
Clifford sat where he was, watching Magnus‘ retreating back. He suddenly recalled how, many years ago, he had also pushed Lilibeth away time and again just like this. She had returned to him every time, her eyes red from crying.
Back then, why hadn’t he realized how much of a privilege it was to be loved?
He continued to stay in Gindara for an entire week. He would turn up at the Quimby residence every morning, bringing Lilibeth’s favorite white roses with him. In the afternoon, he would wait unmovingly on the ground floor of Magnus office just so he could catch a glimpse of her. Late into the night, he would stubbornly stand under the sycamore tree outside her bedroom window until her lights went out.
Things continued in this fashion until Joel called him for the 18th time. “The board of directors can’t wait any longer, Mr. Sinclair. If the Esterra project is delayed any further, the company stands to lose at least five billion dollars.”
Albert and Daphne called him soon afterward, saying something along the lines of, “When are you coming back, Clifford? I’ve been feeling some discomfort in my chest lately…”
After hanging up, Clifford stood outside the Quimby residence and looked toward the second-
floor window. The lights were on, and the curtains show silhouettes locked in an
intimate embrace.
He clenched his fists tightly, his fingernails digging into his palms.
Early the next morning, Lilibeth opened the front door to see Clifford standing at the foot of
the steps.
There were faint circles under his eyes, and his chin had a faint shadow of stubble. Despite that, he was standing straight and tall, like a pine tree that refused to fall.
“I’m making a trip back to Jolsville,” he rasped. “Something has come up at the company, and my parents aren’t feeling too well.”
“Have a safe trip,” Lilibeth said expressionlessly
“I’ll come back.” He repeated insistently, “I’ll come back immediately after I’ve taken care of things there.
She finally looked up to meet his gaze. “I don’t want to see you ever again, Clifford.”
He suddenly stepped forward, as if he hadn’t heard her at all, and thrust a velvet box into her hands. “Wait for me.”
With that, he turned and left, his strides exuding both determination and desperation.
The box still carried a faint hint of warmth from his body. Lilibeth opened it to see a brand new wedding ring. It was engraved with the symbols “S&Q“.
Stunned, she suddenly recalled that snowy night two years ago when he stood in front of her without even a ring and simply said, “Let’s get married.”
It was raining heavily in Jolsville. As soon as Clifford stepped through the door to his villa, he saw a thin, frail figure huddled in the hall.
“Cliff…”
Tiffany looked up at him. Her once pretty face was now ruined, her neck was covered in bruises, and there were angry red handprints on her wrists.
She threw herself into his arms and cried her heart out. “I regret it. I really regret everything. 1 don’t want to be the young lady of the Sinclair family anymore. All I want is you..
The sound of a car screeching harshly to a stop came from outside. An old man in his 50s ran out, holding an umbrella. He visibly shrank when he saw Clifford. “M–Mr. Sinclair…”
Clifford looked down at Tiffany before suddenly pushing her away gently. “You should go
back.”
