No one had guessed that Chris would be here.
His face was ashen, and he seemed livid. âWeston, come out here right now!â
Weston was taken aback for a minute but soon recovered his composure. He stood up and looked at Dr. Quirk. âI have a few things to deal with. You two carry on.â
Chrisâ face was darker than it had ever been. He had a lot of wrath in him. He had no idea how much self-control he had in resisting the impulse to walk inside and drag Weston out himself.
He only turned to look at Guinevere after Weston walked past him and out of the door.
However, she was avoiding his gaze, as if she was scared to look at him or was disgusted to look at him.
When he saw this, his mood fell. He couldnât express how he felt, but the fire within him was raging. He slammed the door with a bang. In the corridor, there was no one. Chris had previously requested that the area be cleared before heading there. When he saw Weston turn around, he threw a punch at him.
âAs*hole!â
He yelled angrily and spat at him. His wrinkled face was twisted with fury. He resembled Weston. It wasnât difficult to tell that he was pretty charming when he was younger.
When Weston was young and naïve, he once admired his father.
But that was only for a short period.
His father had ruined all of his respect for him before he could even become an adult.
Chris was a despicable, cunning man to Weston, no matter how high and powerful he was.
As Chris was letting all his anger out on him right now, the only thing Weston felt inside his heart was none other than hate and disdain. There werenât any emotions left inside him.
Weston grabbed his fist and stared down. âShouldnât you be with Mom abroad? Why are you here?â
His tone was calm, as if he was asking a normal question. It sounded like mockery to Chrisâ ears. âWhy didnât you tell me you were taking Guinevere to see a psychologist?â
When Weston heard this, he nearly laughed. âSheâs my future wife and my fiancée. Why should I need your approval to take her to see a psychologist? Who are you?â Chrisâ face sank. âWhat exactly did you do? Donât tell me youâll only be sorry when itâs too late. Do you understand the implications of your actions? If she really remembers,â
âSo what if she remembers or not? The truth is there.â Weston interrupted him.
His face remained emotionless, but his eyes had darkened, and it was clear that he was nearing the end of his tolerance. âWhat are you terrified of, Dad?â
Chris inhaled deeply, and the veins on his forehead bulged. His eyes were filled with a strong desire to kill.
After a time, he finally calmed down and spoke softly. âI donât want to hurt you since youâre my son.
What happened before was an accident. We donât have any other options now that things have progressed to this point. You canât go back-â âWhy? I didnât do anything wrong.â Weston cut him off.
This time, his voice was filled with emotion.
âWhen you and Mom are traveling, have you ever thought of me? Maybe just once? âWhile you are acting as a good husband in front of Mom, have you ever thought about the lies you tell her?â Smack!
Before he could finish speaking, Chris slapped him right across the face. This time, he didnât dodge.