Constantine Stewart's expression changed slightly as he stared fixedly at her. His face went through several shifts, then he let out a low sigh, walked over, gently wrapped his arms around her, buried his head in the curve of her slender neck, and rasped, "I'm already trying to move on, Chloe."
He had put in a lot of effort—that was why he could let her disappear in the Imperial City for so long. He also tried to face his mother with a calmer mindset, constantly working to change his own temperament, to discard all those fickle, fearful things, because he wanted to become better, wanted to be worthy of someone as good as Chloe Winston.
Chloe reached out and patted his back. The two of them were like little animals huddling for warmth, leaning on each other on a snowy Chinese New Year's Eve night.
