Tyrone ran quickly and caught up with Quintessa in the yard, grabbing her arm. "Quinn, what's wrong?"

Quintessa's hair hid her face as she tried to wriggle free from Tyrone's grip. "I've got something urgent. I really have to go."

Despite her efforts to remain steady, her voice trembled uncontrollably.

Tyrone's grip tightened. "Something's wrong. What happened? Talk to me, what's going on?"

The back of Tyrone's hand felt cool, and looking down, he saw a drop of water. He paused, then quickly reached out to brush aside the hair covering Quintessa's face-even though she dodged, he still managed to reveal a strand of her hair-underneath, he saw her face streaked with tears.

That single tear on his hand suddenly felt burning hot.

Tyrone froze on the spot, forgetting to take back his hand.

head away, trying not to let Tyrone see her cry. She was desperate to leave, her voice hoarse. "The last meal my mom made for me was spaghetti alle vongole. I just suddenly remembered her. I'm fine, really. Sorry, can you apologize to your mom for me? What she made was

for Quintessa's sudden departure to be this. Upon hearing her words, he felt a heaviness in his chest,

voice involuntarily rising. "No, just leave me alone. I need

most vulnerable moment in front of Tyrone. Even three years ago, caught in a scandal and arrested in front of

among mistresses. How could she cry? How was it possible for her to cry? Yet, the care and warmth Tyrone and Mrs.

wanted was for Tyrone to see her like this. She could be bad, but

that, Tyrone wanted to rush up to hug her, kiss her, and give her warmth. Seeing her tears, he was willing to do anything just to make her stop

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