Please Love Me, Mr. George novel Chapter 257

I looked at him and said, “It’s not what you think. Even a casual friend can’t resist checking out someone who looks exactly like him. Besides, I owe him my life.”

He stood up and approached me, his cold breath enveloping me, and he said in a low voice, “What do I think? Do you know what I was thinking?”

I pressed my lips together and unconsciously backed away, but behind me was the cold wall. I couldn’t retreat.

“Dennis, are you mad because I can’t let him go, or do you think I shouldn’t get all worked up over a dead man?”

He sneered, “What do you think?”

I pressed my lips together, knowing he was possessive and domineering. After a pause, I said, “Whatever it was, Hank’s dead, right?”

“But what if it’s not?” He said, “If he were still alive, would you marry him to repay him for saving your life?”

I scowled, feeling he was taking it too seriously. “There is no if.”

As far as I was concerned, Hank was gone, and only guilt and regret remained.

Dennis was in such a mood because he couldn't accept that my regret for Hank would grow over time.

He looked at me with dark eyes as deep as the sea. For a long time, he pulled his dry lips and sat back in his chair with his long, tall body.

Then he said coldly, “Get out of here!”

His black coat made him even more aloof, and there was a chill in his dark eyes, which showed little emotion.

I tried to say something, but nothing came out.

My eyes fell on his computer, I repressed the pain in my heart and said, “Dennis, I don’t know why you’re so mad at me for someone who’s not in this world anymore. If you think I’m that fickle in your eyes, then we can get a divorce. Relationships between people come to an end anyway. Gathering and parting are normal things. I will not blame you.”

If you couldn’t grasp something, just let it go. Either we parted while we were alive or death did us part.

I’d rather live than die, at least if we could both live.

There was a cold gleam in his eyes. He lifted his hand and swept the computer and debris on the floor, smashing them to pieces.

“Getting a divorce?” His thin lips in ridiculous curves, “Clara, what does this marriage look like to you? A deal? A fling? You can say divorce off the top of your head. How many times do you repeat it in your head before you get so good at it? Huh?”

Touching his cold eyes, I unconsciously backed away, my heart aching. “It’s you who wrote the divorce papers. Divorce is what you keep hinting at me. Either way, you’re stuck with Olivia, and I feel guilty about Hank. In that case, it’s better for both of us if we just… separate!”

I did not know why I became so calm at such a time, and could even speak so calmly of the entanglements that were pressing within me.

Maybe it was something I’d been burying all these years. Maybe I just thought it was okay to just split up.