Standing Before Love (Myra and Sean)

Tony knew very well what it felt like when he clasped Myra in his arms. Sometimes, it’s difficult to devote oneself to another woman once one’s heart belongs to someone else. After sighing softly, he rested his chin on her head, smoothed her hair gently, and whispered in a hoarse voice that sounded far gentler than usual, “Stop crying…”

His soft voice tenderly healed the wound in Myra’s heart like a gentle breeze. At this very moment, Myra was no longer in the mood to feel everything around her; all she wanted was to vent all the repressed grief and anguish within her by crying.

As the pedestrians hurried to and fro outside the car window, no one seemed to notice the sad and yet slightly heartwarming scene of the man and the woman in the car.

It wasn’t until the night settled in, the evening lights were lit, and the whole city was enveloped in the darkness outside the window that the woman next to him went from weeping into calmness. As her eyes glazed over, she only felt that the embrace she was held in was so warm that she didn’t want to leave.

The faint smell of tobacco and mint around her didn’t belong to Sean. She knew she shouldn’t be thirsting for this smell, but the good cry she had just now seemed to have drained her of all her strength; she admitted that she only wanted to look for support at this moment.

Sensing Myra’s dependence on him, Tony tightened his arms around her waist. His eyes were still cold, but the gaze that fell on her face was as gentle as spring. His thin lips seemed to curl up for a fraction of a second, and it wasn’t until a long time later that he asked in a husky voice, “I don’t mind you continuing to cling to me like this, but are you really not doing so to cripple my arm?”

He had been resting his right arm between her head and the headrest just now so that she felt more uncomfortable while lying in his arms. He could endure it for an hour or two, but three to four hours had passed since the beginning, so his right arm had long been numb.

Myra froze in his arms; only then did the events that happened that afternoon slowly come back to her mind.

She and Lyla met at a cafe, during which Lyla tricked her into slapping her face and splashed herself with a glass of lemonade, leading Sean—who came midway through their conversation—to think that she was bullying Lyla. Everything after that happened as a matter of course: she broke up with Sean completely, and they went their own ways from then on.

At the thought of this, she felt an instant ache in her heart, and she clutched the button on Tony’s suit jacket like a dying fish that was washed onto the beach. As she slowly got up from the embrace of the man before her, her vacant eyes swept over his navy blue tie before falling on his attractive Adam’s apple. When she looked upward, she saw the man’s tense chin; when she looked upward again, she saw the handsome face she was familiar with.

Luckily, the person isn’t someone else! It’s just that

a long time just now, or

in a voice that was

run into Tony whenever she was caught in the most

lights in the car lit up. There was no movement from the man next to her, but she heard the

the man’s pitch-black eyes, which looked much tenderer than usual as they sparkled under the dim

her sentence, she felt that her

for it fell

matter how strongly Myra resisted this man, she had to admit that his embrace just now really brought a lot

they were

her gaze in a fluster, feeling so embarrassed that she didn’t know what to do. Just then, the handkerchief that had been held out to her once was handed to her again. Tony spoke in a

in Tony’s hand, but she took it in the end. It’s

so messy right now that she smudged the

at Tony, saying, “I’ll give it back

her a long stare, and his expressionless face

of traffic. The lights were dim outside the window; as silence fell over the

long time ago, so why don’t I just accept it and