Evan Willow turned his head to look at Amanda Smith; his tender phoenix eyes carried a mix of gentleness and helplessness, and after a long pause, he finally said nothing more, just letting out a light sigh, "My foolish girl."
His tone was imbued with a lingering tenderness, like a dandelion seed gently falling onto Amanda's heart.
A sour feeling stirred in Amanda's heart; she turned away, "I know you think I'm foolish, but I just can't let go. Whether he really has amnesia or not, sometimes I feel that it's already the best that he's alive. Who he likes doesn't matter at all." She bit her lip, her voice tinged with sorrow, "It was only when I saw him alive that I realized how much I regret the things I had done in the past."
This was the first time she had talked about Samuel Johnson after all this time.
A sigh echoed in Evan's heart; he had long understood that between the two of them, whether it was love or hate, there was no longer room for a third person.