Tim Morrison saw not a trace of jealousy or care on her face; his heart, which had been leaping with joy, plummeted into an abyss in an instant.
As expected, even if he slept with another woman in front of her, she probably wouldn't even frown.
Their relationship, ever since that incident, had lost any chance of a rebound; he should have understood this long ago.
Even though they became fiancé and fiancée, and got engaged, their once-a-month affair was nothing more than a routine obligation to her, with only him passionately involved.
The colder she was, the more he wanted to provoke her; he brought more women before her, and in turn, she became even more indifferent and disgusted with him.
A vicious cycle.
But he couldn't control it.
Disgust, annoyance, anger, tears—anything was better than her icy detachment if he couldn't see her smile.
He knew there was no going back; rather than watching her be expressionless towards him, he preferred to keep her firmly in his grasp.