For some reason, as soon as he spoke, her eyes felt an inexplicable burning sensation.
Her throat tightened as if something was blocking it.
"I won't take up too much of your time, just ten minutes," Kingsly said, his deep gaze fixed on her.
He thought she was hesitating about giving them time to talk privately, which is why he said that.
He didn't know that she wasn't planning to refuse; it was just that the accumulated emotions in her chest were surging, choking her throat, making it impossible for her to speak for a long time.
Her heart was indeed filled with bitterness, both because of his voice's formality and the sudden sense of distance flowing between them.
They had become, as some books describe, the most familiar strangers.
However, she didn't show these emotions on her delicate, beautiful face. Years of learned pretense allowed her to remain calm at this moment.
"Where should we talk?" she asked him.
