"Auntie, I want to talk with Bertha alone for a bit."
Before the person even got close, Bertha Haines already caught a strong scent of alcohol. Seeing her mother getting up from the bed, she quickly grabbed her arm, her eyes pleading.
But her mother brushed her hand aside.
"Avoiding it won't solve any problems. You two should have a proper talk. Since you've decided to break up, then make it clean."
"Mom!" Bertha watched helplessly as her mother left her room. When she turned her gaze to Amos Smith, he was already staggering to the bedside, looking like he could collapse at any moment. "You... you've had too much to drink. I won't talk to you; wait until you're sober and come find me then."
But the man simply ignored her.
He sat directly on the bed, his eyes bloodshot as he looked at her.
"Why did you return the things?"
Bertha dared not make eye contact with Amos: "Naturally, I want to make a clean break with you."
