Forbidden Passion

Chapter 368 I Love You, Theodore

Phoebe came out of the shower, grabbed some clothes from the closet, packed her backpack, and took her laptop.

Theodore was still on the floor, smoking. His shirt was open, showing off his muscles. One leg was bent, the other stretched out, looking tense.

He held a half-smoked cigarette, the ashtray full of butts. He should've felt triumphant, but he looked like a sad beast.

Seeing Phoebe with her stuff, he squinted and asked in a raspy voice, "Where are you going?"

Phoebe didn't answer and headed for the door.

Theodore jumped up, blocked her path, grabbed her wrist, and demanded, "Where are you going?"

Phoebe bit her lip, feeling the pain from where he'd bitten her earlier.

"Let's live apart for a while," she said.

Theodore's eyes flared with anger. He laughed, "Not enough punishment? Want another round?" Phoebe's chest tightened with anger. She shook off his hand and slapped him hard.

The room went silent.

Phoebe's hand stung. She stared at Theodore, whose head had turned from the slap. 'He could've dodged it,' she thought. 'Why didn't he?'

Theodore looked at her. "Feel better? If not, hit me again. But living apart? No way."

Phoebe's eyes reddened. She raised her hand to hit him again but stopped. She threw her things at him, grabbed his shirt, and screamed, "Theodore, what do you want from me?"

She was shaking. Theodore pulled her into his arms, holding her tight. "Phoebe, stay with me. Don't go."

She tried to push him away but couldn't. She broke down, crying, and

the floor. He cupped her chin, kissed

to bed. After a quick shower, he returned, holding her from behind. He held her tightly as if wanting to merge with her, never to

the dim room, unable to

had wished

they held each other like lovers. Although they were practically

everything, she still loved

neck until he

hate you, Theodore. I hate you,"

"I love you, Theodore. I love

He cupped

quietly. As long as you don't talk about

but reality showed that no matter

almost thinking she'd cried herself blind. Slowly, her sight

her vision on top of not receiving the love she desired; it would be

bit. The space beside her was empty. Theodore must have

her legs almost gave out. She grabbed the bed's edge to steady

change. The

for the suitcase and backpack was empty. Both were gone. Phoebe was stunned for a moment, then climbed onto

was her suitcase gone, but Theodore's was, too, along with several

take all the suitcases and

know whether to laugh or cry. If Theodore really wanted her

wouldn't say

got off the stool, put on a turtleneck to cover the bite marks on her neck,

flowers. She quickened her pace and saw a bouquet of yellow roses in the living room. She paused, feeling inexplicably disappointed. Theodore came out with a bowl of porridge. Seeing her,