After Shen Yan’s injury healed, she cleaned the old fountain pen and calmly set it on Fu Jinhan’s desk. “Back where it belongs.”
That gesture completely shattered Fu Jinhan. He thought it was a sign that she wanted to cut all ties with him for good. He pinned her against the cold floor-to-ceiling window, his breath hot and ragged, his eyes filled with pain and madness he could no longer hide. “Shen Yan! What do you want from me? You left without a word five years ago, and now you’re back just to torture me like this? If you dare push away what belongs to me again...”
He lowered his head and kissed her fiercely. The kiss was filled with desperate possessiveness and five years of pent-up longing. Shen Yan neither resisted nor returned the kiss. But as he kissed her more deeply, a cold tear slid down her cheek and fell onto the back of his hand, burning through him and making his heart clench. He stopped abruptly. Seeing the bottomless sorrow and exhaustion in her eyes, he was seized by a terrible fear.
She gently pushed him away, her voice hoarse. “Fu Jinhan, some things broke a long time ago.”
After she left, Fu Jinhan slumped to his knees on the floor, clutching the old fountain pen as tightly as a lost child.
