"Why did you convince me that I would live with my mother happily after causing the abortion when you knew that my mother would be dead anyway? Isn't that called manipulation?" She miraculously let out her question that she almost stayed all night long trying to put into words; she mentally and emotionally practiced for this very moment to the extent that she thought nothing would ever be able to lower her voice, shake her tone or even allow a tear to seep out of her eyes when she stands in front of him. But she couldn't shroud her nasal, croaky and tired voice nor was she able to throw her welled up tears into oblivion as soon as she was put under his rich, intense gaze.

"When I said glorious life, I never meant that it would be living with your mother." His softly lowered voice penetrated Beryl's heart, yet her whole figure never cared to budge upon hearing any of those pointless excuses.

"Whatever your present is, I don't care. I'm more than thankful already because what you did made me come back to my senses." She sniffled, still trying to swallow back her drizzling tears, and fidgeted her arms awkwardly in front of his dangerously acute gaze.

"What do you mean?" He asked, unsure of what she really meant.

"I will never allow myself to b