NovelTrueChapter 1623
Chapter 1623:
Corrine wasn't sure what she felt for Jonathan. It wasn’t love—she was certain of that. But calling it friendship
didn’t quite capture what it truly was. She simply knew one thing: she didn’t want to see him die.
Though her words were delivered with unnerving calm, they landed like quiet thunder in Jonathan's heart. The
ripples they stirred took a long tto fade. He stared at Corrine, his eyes fixed and unblinking, a storm of
emotions surging beneath his calm facade.
After what felt like an eternity, his throat worked as he swallowed hard. “Corrine, is it possible that you have
feelings for me?”
She blinked, stunned into silence. A part of her genuinely wanted to crack open his skull and inspect the inner
workings of his brain—was he missing a screw?
Before she could even formulate a response, Nate's vehicle rolled to a stop at the curb. Corrine wasted no time.
She pulled open the door and slid inside without a backward glance.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtJonathan remained rooted in place, a quiet smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched her disappear
down the street.
From the entrance of the bar, Bleacher stepped out. He caught sight of his boss standing there with that
ridiculous, starry-eyed grin and leaned in close, lowering his voice. “Mr. Martel... she is gone.”
If the others caught wind of this lovesick expression, there would be little left of his authority.
But Jonathan paid him no mind. He remained adrift in his own thoughts, oblivious to the world around him.
From childhood, he had harbored a belief that he was beyond repair—a rotten core wrapped in human flesh. He
despised himself. He despised everyone.
So, when someone showed him kindness for the first time, he questioned it deeply. It had to be a trick, a trap. He
tiptoed through it, waiting for the catch. Eventually, that cautious curiosity turned into quiet obsession. He lost
himself in that warmth, that illusion of care.
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Until someone tore it apart and left him bleeding in the ruins.
He had convinced himself that no one in this world would ever offer him genuine care again. But Corrine’s words
just now—simple, perhaps even careless—had sparked something inside him. A distant, forgotten feeling.
It was like standing alone in the pitch dark and suddenly sensing sunlight brush against your skin. Like the
universe whispered, “Reach out... and you might touch it again.”
Gradually, his thoughts coalesced.
The smile in his eyes faded, replaged
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Bleacher felt the shift in Jonathan's
energy—a suffocating visitieé {
pressurdthat pressed into his chest.
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