When Titus Zane got into the car of his mother Ariana Evans, he took a deep breath.
The silver Honda started slowly, and Titus Zane unconsciously turned his head to glance at the dimly-lit villa, quickly withdrawing his gaze after just a glance.
Because looking any longer, he feared he would not be able to control his emotions.
A weight settled on the back of his hand, it was Ariana's hand covering his, warm just like when he was a child.
"Titus, don't be sad, let the misunderstandings be misunderstandings. After all, there were plenty of them before."
Titus Zane smiled, but the curve of his lips couldn't hide his self-mockery.
"Mom, I'm not sad. This place was never my home."
His home was in Paris, the small house that once carried all his struggles and joy.
"Good that you understand." Ariana gave a meaningful glance as the silver sedan slowly drove out of the villa area.
