The rain seemed endless, filling the air with the sweet scent of osmanthus. Two people walked under an umbrella in the alley, searching for their way back.
Callie hugged herself, feeling cold without a coat, her face even paler. She glanced at Nelson’s expression, seeing that he wasn’t entirely indifferent, and asked with difficulty, “Nelson, why didn’t you tell me when Grandpa first got sick?”
Nelson’s fingers gripping the umbrella turned white from the pressure. He didn’t turn his head, “Tell you so you could worry?”
“But…” She remembered they were arguing at that time, “You could have told me. I wouldn’t have scolded you so harshly.”
Nelson let out a cold laugh, “No need.” He looked at her, “You’ve scolded me a lot. One more scolding doesn’t matter.”
Callie pressed her lips together, thinking he had a point.
After a brief silence, with only the sound of rain hitting the stone bricks, she suddenly heard Nelson ask, “Callie, do you love me or hate me more?”
The question caught Callie off guard, but she blurted out, “Of course I hate you.”
Nelson frowned immediately, his tone growing heavier, “To what extent? Do you hate me enough to kill me?”
Callie responded smoothly, “Yes, I’ve never been hit like this by anyone, not even Reuben.”
Guilt took root in Nelson’s heart. He knew she was holding back because they were on his turf. Once she was out of his control, she would become fierce again, truly wishing to kill him without mercy.
“That day I was impulsive,” he said, frowning, unsure how to express his sincerity.
Callie glanced at him, feeling like laughing. Clearly, Nelson wasn’t someone who would easily admit fault. From the beginning until now, he had always been the one in control. How could a controller make mistakes?
So at this moment, he seemed particularly awkward.
Callie shrugged, “It doesn’t matter. Now the whole city must be filled with rumors and slander about her. That slap was worth it.”
Nelson looked away, his expression unreadable.
Callie knew he was restraining his anger.
She stood still and said word by word, “That’s exactly what I want-to see her ruined and fall from grace.”
He turned back, his gaze sharp as a blade, “You don’t listen to what I say, do you?”
“Want to hit me again?” Callie stepped closer on tiptoe, “I think one slap was too lenient. Another one wouldn’t hurt.”
Since she had already been hit once, she didn’t mind another.
Callie didn’t even realize that as she spoke, her cheeks puffed slightly and her eyes filled with grievance.
She still cared about that slap and that he had hit her for Charlotte.
Nelson held the umbrella with one hand, his fingers cold but his expression unchanged. He wasn’t provoked by her, “Don’t be willful.”
He simply said not to be willful.
Callie frowned. She was often angered by his indifferent attitude.
“Nelson,” she chased after him and asked, “I’ve always wondered if it were Maevelyn instead, would you have been so impulsive?”
The rain grew heavier and the ground more slippery.
Nelson’s voice was somewhat hoarse, “To restrain the Ellison family, I used her as a hostage. In that regard, I owe her.”
Callie’s gaze turned blank. She had known this reason for a long time, but hearing him say it still made her uncomfortable.
She took a deep breath, “So if it were her, you wouldn’t have.”
But for her, he did.