The car left the garage. The ground was wet and soggy; the rain had lessened. Still following the south road, the windshield wipers swung back and forth methodically.
Shen Jing looked out the window. The spot on the roadside where the accident had occurred no longer showed any sign of the Bentley. Only a towing company was handling the red sports car with its severely damaged front end. Even Zhuang Ming was gone.
Shen Jing withdrew her gaze. If he had pushed Wei Wenxin away at that moment, pushed her away, perhaps I wouldn't want to be angry anymore, she thought. Now, no matter how I think about it, I can't find a reason to forgive him.
Reminiscing about their past interactions, those occasional moments of tenderness, the sometimes cold, sometimes doting indulgence, all surged into her mind.
She made plans to get a foot massage with Liang Yingning. Upon reaching their destination, they booked a private room.
