Trey's eyes were bloodshot as he stared at her, unblinking.
"Something we owe you?" he ground out through clenched teeth, word by word. "Khloe, do you even have a conscience? Was I ever not good enough to you? I was ready to abandon Angela—for you. I was ready to abandon my own son! And yet, you ended up with Nick at some point behind my back…
"Khloe, after betraying me like this, don't you owe me anything at all?"
Khloe looked at him and let out another faint, contemptuous laugh.
The man in front of her was so ridiculous she didn't even feel the need to argue further.
She simply picked up the glass of water in front of her and took a slow sip.
That composed, unbothered gesture felt like a blade, carving into Trey's heart again and again.
"Do you know how I've lived these past few months?" His voice began to tremble. "Every time I close my eyes, I see my grandmother lying there. Every time I open them, I hear my father's groans. Every time I walk down the street, I feel people pointing at my back…"
He suddenly stood up, both hands slamming onto the table as he leaned forward.
"All of this is because of you!"
Khloe looked at him calmly.
His eyes were red with bloodshot veins, facial muscles twitching. He looked like a tightly drawn string—ready to snap at any moment.
Suddenly, she found it almost laughable.
"Trey," she said lightly, "do you know what you look like right now?"
He didn't respond.
She continued, "Like a gambler who's already lost everything but still refuses to leave the table."
His face twisted slightly.
Khloe set down her glass and slowly stood.

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