His Destructive, Toxic Love novel Chapter 499

Eliza was profoundly shaken upon hearing this.

In fact, she vaguely remembered Brock's fascination with anatomy books and human structure diagrams. It was from the time he got injured in kindergarten. Holding him in her arms, she went to consult a doctor and saw an anatomy book on the desk. At the time, she thought Brock was just looking at it as if it were a picture book and didn't take it seriously.

Casper's attentiveness was beyond her expectations. So... Was his plan for Brock to pursue a medical career rather than becoming a qualified businessman? It seemed she had indeed been too subjective... Thinking back, there was no need for her to be so agitated and wildly speculate. She should have listened calmly to Casper's explanation. She had to admit, she had misunderstood him.

Her hand, somewhat conflicted, fiddled with the strap of her bag as she listened to him continue.

"I didn't realize you were afraid of me," he said, his voice a mix of regret and understanding. "But looking back, it makes sense. Our marriage didn’t start off on the right foot. Misunderstandings piled up, tormenting both of us. I wasn’t having an easier time than you."

"There's something I want to ask you... Can you answer me honestly?" His gaze was intense, his breath shaky.

She looked up into his eyes. "What is it?"

"Do you... still love me?" His voice wavered, but he needed to know her true feelings. Even if the answer was no, he needed clarity.

Eliza didn’t know how to respond. Love, or the absence of it, seemed like a false dilemma. She had loved him, it was love at first sight, an uncalculated fall. But now... She really didn't know. It wasn’t that she found it hard to answer, but hard to describe her feelings for him at this moment. If his so-called love was a hundred percent, then in her heart, there might still be a one or even just 0.01 percent. Could that still be called love?

Her gaze slowly lifted again, looking at his face. He seemed so calm, as if waiting for a stormless acquaintance. Sweat filled the palm of Eliza's hand. Her fingertips hesitated, her heartbeat lost its direction, she really didn’t know how to respond to him.

The silence ticked by. In these few short minutes, her heart was in turmoil, at a loss. The two of them stood like still puppets. He didn’t move, and she didn’t know what to do. She closed her eyes, still unable to decide.

The man watched her. His fingertips slowly lost their firmness, disappointment creeping into his eyes again, and slowly, his hand dropped. He knew she had given her answer. But this answer, like thousands of arrows piercing his heart, made him wish for death.

Turning around, he walked step by step towards the staircase, his broad shoulders and waist losing their firmness, as if they could no longer bear the weight, his steps becoming ethereal. Eliza slowly opened her eyes and looked at his retreating figure.