I took the bag and walked out.

Samuel chased after me and grabbed my hand, "What are you doing? Do you want to make a fool of yourself in front of so many people?"

There was still a little red mark on his lips.

He actually kissed her.

I suddenly felt a little ridiculous, shook off his hand, "You kissed another woman in front of me, your wife, who is on earth the joke?"

He frowned impatiently, "It's just a game!"

"Do you know what she said to me? She has loved me for nearly ten years. I just see my own reflection in her!"

"I just feel sorry for her. She has loved me for so many years. I have experienced this kind of humiliation and despair, so I want to give her a helping hand!"

He spoke sternly, and I couldn't help but sneer.

It's really absurd.

"So, just because she loves you, you have to love her? You have to kiss her?"

I have always felt sorry for the restrained five years of his confession, because I fell for him, so I felt sorry for him.

But it didn't mean that I had to feel sorry for every unrequited love in the world.

And I wouldn't just kiss anyone so casually.

"I have also experienced that embarrassing situation. I just want to help her out!"

He stared at me impatiently, with a dissatisfied tone.

"I'm not you. I'm not so heartless to trample on someone's sincerity!"

My heart suddenly ached.

I gathered great courage to believe in love again and cherished Samuel's goodness even more.

Didn't I love him?

Didn't I come home every day after work to cook for him?

Didn't I manage this relationship well?

Just because I had an ex-boyfriend and didn't accept his affection while dating someone else, did that mean I deserve to die?

I knew what Samuel was referring to.

At that time, I had a fight with Michael, and my friends called a bunch of people to the bar to cheer me up.

Samuel sat at another table.

He walked over with a drink, visibly nervous, and stuttered, "I lost in the game, can you please help me complete a task?"

He approached me and asked, "Can I kiss you?"

Without hesitation, I rejected him, very coldly.

At that time, our friends around us knew about his secret crush on me, and I had some suspicions but was not certain.

I didn't do things that gave people false hope.

I publicly humiliated Samuel, hurting his pride and making his face turn ugly.

The embarrassment on his face today was just like Emily's.

So, was this a case of mutual understanding?

I looked at him, and my face turned cold.

"You really disgust me."

He seemed hurt by this sentence, his face turned red, and he argued with me desperately, "Disgusting? Is that what you've always thought? You've always treated me like a dog by your side!"

I didn't want to argue with him anymore, so I shook him off and got in the car, and booked a hotel.

Samuel was still roaring behind me, "I am just a lapdog, I am just an ass-kisser!"

I closed my eyes.

When I just broke up with Michael, I lost the ability to love, and I told Samuel directly that I might never fall in love with him.

"If I like you, of course I will treat you well, you don't have to feel burdened."

These were the words he said when I clearly rejected him at that time.

And now, those proofs of his kindness that moved me have become his words of being an ass-kisser.

The next day, I made an appointment, went to the hospital, and had an abortion.

At the moment when I felt my lower abdomen empty, I still couldn't suppress the heartache.

I was no longer the Rachel Young who would die for a man's infidelity.

But I was still very sad.

My body felt cold, and the screensaver on my phone was still a photo of me and Samuel.

It turned out that he has always been unwilling. What he once desperately sought has become his stain after he got it.

The first time I was hurt in a relationship almost took my life, and it was Samuel who saved me.

I thought he would be my redemption, but I didn't expect it to be another abyss.

This time, I would save myself.