Jane Dench's POV
In the banquet lounge, Ben Roberts stood at the door for nearly a minute before he pushed the door open and walked in.
He locked the door and looked at me gloomily.
"Ben Roberts, i..." I wanted to explain, but when I met the gloomy eyes of Ben Roberts, I couldn't say anything.
It seemed that something was stuck, as if I would collapse if i opened my mouth.
"You explain. I'm listening." Ben Roberts waited for a long time, but didn't hear an explanation from. He couldn't help reminding.
What can I say to him?
Would I cry and tell him what had happened at home?
Did i want him to pity himself?
But so what? Let him seek justice for me? Besides, Tom Cotillard was holding her just now.
I should give him an explanation. I don't want to use the real reason, and I don't want to lie.
For a long time, time froze in the air, and I didn't know where to start.
"I..." I stammered.
And this sound was like a horns breaking the silence.