Chapter 153 Samuel Johnson's Birthday (1)

"Click."

The door opened and then closed again.

Samuel Johnson had left.

The room was silent, no other sound to be heard; moonlight flowed onto the floor through the window, casting a somewhat dim light inside.

Amanda Smith stirred and slowly turned around.

In her hand, she clutched the tie that Samuel Johnson had thrown at her face, squeezing it so hard that her palm was sweaty.

Her footsteps unsteady, she made her way to the bed and sat down slowly, hugging her knees and burying her face in her legs.

There was an indescribable taste in her heart—sadness, heartache, anger, all sorts of negative emotions swirling in her chest, tormenting her painfully.

She didn't know when their relationship had started to deteriorate this badly. Every encounter consisted of interrogations or accusations. Now, he even suspected her of messing around with someone else.

If only... she really could fall for someone else... would she still need to suffer like this?