Chapter 350
The sound of cicadas in the summer can''tst until the cold winter. Once you miss it, you''ll never
meet it again.
"What do you mean?" Rain wet Brett''s face and his eyshes were covered in droplets. He
squinted at Izabe, and nobody noticed his hand trembling as if enduring something. He clenched
his fist.
Izabe held up her umbre, full of mockery: "It means I never intended to forgive you from the
beginning, let alone see you, got it?"
Brett''s lips trembled, and the rain on his body didn''t feel like rain but like millions of needles piercing
every part of his body, causing pain.
Last night, when Liam told him that Izabe had lied to him, he had guessed this oue, but he
was too afraid to face it, let alone admit it. How could he be so confident that Izabe would forgive
him? Would they get back together as before?
Get back together as before?
How could he forget that his rtionship with Izabe was a mistake from the beginning, and they''d
never been happy?
A chill crept up his spine, slowly spreading across his entire back.
"You lied to me."
"Brett, who are you putting on this hurt look for? You''re a person who can lie to a priest, so why
can''t I just say whatever I want? You''re taking yourself way too seriously." Izabe gripped the
umbre handle tightly, "Get lost!"
Brett didn''t move, staying put with a hurt look on his face, staring at Izabe.
"Izabe, I really know I was wrong. I misjudged people. I didn''t trust you. I didn''t know it was you
who saved me back then. If I had known."
"So what?" Izabe interrupted him, "Just because I saved you back then, you fell in love with me?
Brett, this isn''t love. You''re begging me to forgive you now, just to find some sce and alleviate the
guilt of killing someone. Brett, you haven''t changed at all. Still childish, paranoid, and disgusting."
Brett shook his head, his heart feeling like it was being strangled. His eyes reddened, and he
muttered, "It''s not like that. I really love you, not because of guilt. Izabe, I don''t ask you to stay by
my side, but just give me a chance to get close to you, apologize and make it up to you. As long as
you''re willing, I''ll do anything for you. I promise to be good to you, never bully you, never make you
cry again. Izabe, please give me a chance. I''m begging you!"
He finished in one breath, panting, unable to suppress his coughing, covering his chest and leaning
towards Izabe.
Izabe stepped back half a step, hearing a "bang" sound, and Brett fell to his knees. Not only that,
but his head hit the ground, kneeling in front of Izabe in the most humble posture.
Izabe''s face remained unchanged, as indifferent as ever. Her gaze moved downwards, finally
landing on Brett''s head.
She couldn''t help but remember that he had once kneeled in front of Brett, begging for the Salotti
family''s mercy.
She believed his words, which led to the destruction of her family and the disappearance of the
Salotti family from R City.
Izabe stepped back, distancing herself from Brett. "Brett, I''m already thirty years old, not easily
deceived. I know all your tricks."
She had endured all the hardships alone and no longer expected to be with anyone. Her expression
was numb as she looked at the trembling man on the ground.
Brett''s kneeling only reminded her of her painful past when he was arrogant, condescending, and
mocking her.
"I didn''t lie to you. I can give you anything."
"But what you give is precisely what I don''t need." Izabe suddenly thought of something, bending
down slightly and getting closer to Brett, her eyes filled with various emotions. "Brett, if you want me
to ept your apology, you have to suffer like me, like dying once. Dare you?"
Brett looked at Izabe''s cold, emotionless eyes, remembering that her eyes used to be as clear as
water.
Brett felt heartbroken, his chest pain intensifying. He suppressed his cough, blood staining the
corner of his mouth. He tried to calm down, but Izabe''s relentless gaze made it impossible.
Three years, more than a thousand days.
"Izabe, do you really have no feelings for me at all?" Brett showed a bitter smile, his eyes filled
with tears, looking even more miserable than crying.
Izabe retracted the corners of her mouth and mocked, "Feelings? Do you deserve them?"
Tears streamed uncontrobly down his face, and his body felt as if it was being sliced by a knife.
Brett couldn''t believe these cold words wereing from Izabe''s mouth. He knew Izabe; she
was kind-hearted and easily deceived. As long as someone was nice to her and showed sincerity,
she would follow them.
"Izabe, I don''t believe you have no feelings for me. We''ve known each other for so many years,
even though our rtionship was a mistake at first, we''ve known each other for nine years and
been together for seven. I don''t believe you''ve never had feelings for me. If there were no feelings,
why would all 102 pages of your diary be about me? If there were no feelings, how could you knit a
scarf for me? If there were no feelings, how could you insist on cooking for me and waiting for me to
come home for four years?"
His urgent voice was not only for Izabe but also to get a confirmation of the fact that Izabe had
loved him.
Brett looked at Izabe in pain.
Izabe''s survival was already the best gift from heaven.
He knew Izabe would be angry and wouldn''t forgive him.
He had thought about all this.
But he couldn''t live without Izabe. He understood her importance, and he thought she should
understand his feelings for her.
Izabe said calmly, "Maybe you''re right, I once loved you, butter on, there was nothing left. From
the day I told you I wanted a divorce, I no longer had any feelings for you."
"Brett, I''ve told you before, I just can''t be with you feeling all peachy after you hurt me. Sometimes I
really wonder, how can youe running back to me without feeling guilty or scared?" Izabe said
with a smile.
Brett''s breath hitched, and then it became difficult for him to breathe. He couldn''t find the strength to
hold himself up.
Original from N?velDrama.Org.
Izabe had truly loved him. Even without Ryker getting in the way, she had loved him. But he had
lost the Izabe who loved him.
He coughed up a mouthful of blood, and his whole body copsed onto the ground, his back soaked
by the rain. A broken sob escaped from his throat. His head hung low, tears mixed with blood
dripped into the puddle beneath him, his shoulders trembling uncontrobly. Cold, why was it so
cold, when it was summer?
Izabe caught a glimpse of the blood on the ground, and after a few seconds of silence, she
gripped her umbre and walked around him.
Brett caught a glimpse of her slender figure in the corner of his eye. He knelt on the ground, his
body aching and unable to stand up, his hands propping himself up as he crawled toward Izabe''s
retreating figure.
"Izabe... Izabe... don''t go... please don''t go..."
Brett reached out to grab Izabe''s hand, but she dodged it, and his hand only caught the rain from
the sky. The wind blew through his palm, and he pinched his fingers, not catching a single one. The
returning Izabe was like the wind, he couldn''t catch the wind, and he couldn''t catch her either.
This time, Izabe didn''t even turn her head, her back facing Brett: "Brett, you look really ugly when
you cry and beg."
Brett couldn''t hold on any longer and copsed on the ground. Like a corpse. Hey there like a
corpse, heartbroken. His heart twisted in pain. He stared at Izabe''s cold figure, his vision blurring,
blood flowing from the corner of his mouth, unable to stop.
It turned out that when a person''s heart dies, they don''t feel pain, as if their senses are frozen. From
the initial dull pain to the current numbness, it''s like undergoing major surgery, with the anaesthesia
still not wearing off, that kind of surreal feeling.
He thought Izabeing back alive was a chance from heaven for him to love someone. He
didn''t expect it to be a punishment from heaven for his past mistakes when he didn''t know how to
love.
The cruellest thing is not two long-separated people passing by each other but the intimacy that
once existed, turning into indifference that leaves no more room for love.
In the end, he stared lifelessly at the scar on his palm. So the kite string never returned to his hand.