"Mom. You really don't care?"
Mrs. York thought Tyrone was referring to the car that got wrecked, and she said, "What's there to care about? It's just money, aren't you well off anyway?"
Tyrone paused for a moment, then said, "I saw her crying today, and it really hurt me. I just thought, if she could just smile once, I'd do anything for her." Mrs. York put down her phone, looked at Tyrone with some surprise, and gently patted his head, "Son, sometimes you gotta follow your heart. Matters of the heart aren't that complicated. When you can't stop thinking about someone, when it pains you to see them hurt, or when you get jealous over them, that's love. Don't doubt it, and don't fight with yourself. If you're all twisted up now, give it a few years, and you'll be regretting it."
Tyrone was stunned. Had he fallen for Quintessa? Really?
His heart suddenly raced. He wanted to speak but couldn't replace the words. His mind was blank.
Seeing Tyrone like this, Mrs. York knew her dear son still hadn't quite figured it out. She reached out and patted his head again, "Silly boy, always sneaking into bed, and after all those nights, haven't you figured it out yet? With your stubborn streak, letting someone take advantage of you and still indulging them repeatedly, what are you after if not her heart?"
Tyrone's face turned red, and he stood up, heading upstairs.
Mrs. York chuckled.
After a few steps, Tyrone turned back and asked, "Mom, do you regret marrying Dad?"
The smile faded slightly from Mrs. York's face. "Of course, I regret it. But what can you do? You've been bouncing around for years, and I'm getting old. This is my life. I'm fine with it. I'm pretty happy like this. Besides, I'm not short of money. I'm quite satisfied."
Mrs. York's ability to maintain such a disposition over the years was largely due to her attitude-she was optimistic and content. If it hadn't been for Mrs. Harrington targeting Quintessa today, Mrs. York would probably still be nonchalant, laughing it off and playing dumb.
She was naive, but not foolish. She had been naive in the past, simply because she couldn't be bothered to fuss over things.
"Did you ever think about getting a divorce?"
Mrs. York nodded, "Of course, I did. I'm not really foolish. I was adamant about getting a divorce back then, but then you clung to my leg and cried, and I had to stay." Tyrone's lips curved into a smile, "Mom, I'll be happy. I promise."
Mrs. York snorted, "Pfft, start by actually getting married. With your temperament, who'd want to put up with you?"
For anyone else with a different
personality in Mrs. York's position, it might have been impossible to live as comfortably as she did. Her life had been smooth sailing. In her early years, she was pampered and
adored in her parents' home, el. not
cultivated her innocent and carefree nature. The only misfortune in her life was probably her marriage, but she was also fortunate to have a child. Her child was the sole heir of the York family, and no one could challenge their status.
Over the years, Mrs. York's attitude had remained-What husband? I don't care about him. As long as my son and I are doing well, that's all that matters.
Tyrone sat by the bed, watching Quintessa with a somber expression.
He saw her eyelashes flutter and her eyes slowly open, her gaze hazy and unfocused, taking a while to regain clarity.
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