"Go home," he said to Finnley indifferently. “Leave me in peace.”

"Will you... go to work tomorrow?" Finnley asked tentatively, "Shall I adjust your schedules? You need a good rest."

Ivan didn't answer, feeling as if the next day was too far away from him. He didn't have the energy to think about it.

Finnley could understand how he felt. "Ok, I know what to do. Please take care, Mr. Marsh. I'll keep you updated.”

Ivan didn't reply, and Finnley left.

He closed the door. Ivan stood up and locked it from the inside. Then he pulled out two bottles of whisky from the wine cabinet, sitting in front of the window.

His eyes were full of anger. Recalling every moment he spent with Jennifer in the past few days, he felt his heart was torn apart by grief, which he had never felt so in his life before.

Probably, since he encountered Jennifer for the first time seven years ago, he had loved her to the core.

He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

of pouring the whisky into a cup, Ivan opened the lid, lifted the bottle, and gulped it

liquid brought the burning sensation from his throat all the way to his stomach. The

Can you answer my question now? Have you got the

started. Probably from the moment that I wished you could be happy, that I could cure the wounds on your back as well

was always gentle and kind-hearted. All her wishes were about him and for his own

blowing outside. He gulped down the whisky in frustration, wondering where she was

pain kept hitting his jumbled

could it be so

alcohol for a whole night, waiting

up the stomach medicine from Jennifer. Staring at the small bottle in his hand,

she had gone without telling him,

Her kindly

wasn't beside him anymore. What was the point even if his stomach trouble

his strength

rolled between the mats, and some rolled to the window. All were

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