My Pretty Sweetheart novel Chapter 683

"Do you blame me?" He asked. His shallow breath landed on my face. It felt particularly warm.

I shook my head. "It was a long time ago. When I look at Yana, I just feel like I'm looking at my old self. She sticks by someone who doesn't love her, becoming as insignificant as dust."

His eyes lingered on me. "If one could stay with the one they love without having to hurt others, that would be the greatest blessing of all."

His words were laced with guilt. I knew exactly what he meant. Circling my arms around his neck, I rested my head on his chest and said solemnly, "I don't blame you, Hendrix. We're actually the same; no one ever taught us how to love, and we had to learn it little by little by ourselves. We did lose a lot, but thankfully, we managed to understand each other's heart in the end."

After a pause, I continued, "I hope that Aaron can understand his own heart soon."

Yana had been with him for a solid decade. Throughout these ten years, Yana had never felt that she should be cared for. She was more dutiful than a mother when it came to taking care of Aaron. There were numerous women around him, but she seemed to have never cared. Whether it was for love or not, she could take everything in stride.

Even if it hurt, she concealed it from the public. She kept all her sadness to herself and waited until she was alone to let herself feel it in all its intensity.

Aaron was already accustomed to her presence. If she were to leave one day, he might not be able to move on.

Hendrix kissed me on the forehead. There weren't many cars on the road; he started the car and drove very slowly.

When we returned to the villa, Anne had already fallen asleep. After I finished washing up, I took a look at Anne and covered her properly in her blanket.

When I came out of Anne's room, Hendrix had also just finished his shower. He dried himself and sat on the couch, staring at his phone.

I looked up and saw that it was late. I lowered my voice and said, "Hendrix, it's time to go to bed."

He placed his phone down and put on a wry smile. He gazed at me with his eyes, deep, obscure and attractive.

I pursed my lips and felt that his smile was breathtaking; it was unreal.

"Why are you smiling?" "I'm happy!" He said as the corners of his eyes crinkled.

I pressed my lips again. Of course, I could tell he was happy, but I wanted to know why.