A painful lump formed in Nora Ainsworth's throat. She stared straight ahead, her heart bleeding while the truth hovered on the tip of her tongue.
"Yes." After a long pause, she finally uttered the single word, yet it carried devastating power.
Seeing the hurt in his eyes, she couldn't stop herself. "You already knew the answer, yet you still had to ask. How can you blame me for being cruel? Quentin Grant, no matter how intimate we become, I will never be willing to have your child."
Quentin Grant looked at her and suddenly laughed—a chilling, heartless sound.
"You're like an onion. You have no heart," he said. "Nora Ainsworth, you're destined to be alone forever."
"You don't need to worry about that. After all, you're just a passing traveler in my life. On any train journey, someone is bound to get off halfway."
Quentin Grant turned the key, stepped on the gas, and said nothing more to her.
