After getting into the car, Mu Qiao closed her eyes before she screamed out loud, a jumble of undefinable feelings within her. This had now proved that it was Mo Han, no doubt. Before this, she’d been wondering why he wasn’t in the least concerned about her and their daughter when he was obviously still alive, but now everything could be easily explained; he probably didn’t even want to acknowledge their existence. However, she had acted the fool; as she thought about all the grievances she’d endured this past year and her pining for him, it all mocked her.
When the atmosphere outside had reverted to its usual peacefulness, Mo Han flipped the covers to reveal his clothes that were still dripping. Taking out two hundred from the drawer, he then flung it at the woman on the bed.
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