Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

But Mason just couldn’t fathom why Tiffanie could be no heartiens un to not even pick up the phone. Was she giving him the silent treatment before breaking it off for good? Or had he disappointed her on bed?

It was a touchy subject that he wouldn’t dare ask Belle to probe into, He’d have to wait until he could ask Tiffanie face–to–face.

Brielle, upon hearing this, zoned out for a moment, She wasn’t exactly heartbroken, but the feeling gnawing at her was uncomfortably close.

The texts she’d sent to Max had all vanished into the ether, and the one she’d sent out two hours ago, as n feeler, still hadn’t been answered.

Brielle had really believed that Max liked her, but his current evasion was making her unexpectedly. nervous. Moreover, that scarf she’d seen on Annie only added to her swirling thoughts.

If only Max would give her some kind of sign, she’d be bold enough to fight for him a little harder. But if he truly saw her as just a stand–in, she doubted she’d even have the strength to take another step.

“Brielle, you should really get some rest,” Mason advised, noting her pallor. “If there’s any news on Book, I’ll let you know right away.”

Brielle mustered a weak smile. “Thanks, I’ll rest up in a bit.” Though once they’d hung up, she did little more than sit on the couch, lost in thought.

As the sky outside darkened, and she watched the city lights flicker to life, a familiar loneliness crept over her. She was reminded of the holiday decorations at Premier Palace, the fairy lights that had adorned the place, and the wreath on the door that had brought a sudden sting to her nose.

Just out of a soothing shower, Max, too, was gazing at the shimmering city lights, his mind a whirlpool of thoughts. A lit cigarette dangled loosely from his fingers, the fiery ember nearing bare skin, but he seemed blissfully lost in the distant radiance, unaware of the encroaching burn.

He rarely smoked, only when he was feeling particularly restless. As he lifted his eyes in the midst of the hazy smoke, a flicker of emotion crossed his face, and he closed his eyes halfway in a chilling calm.

Patrick entered and stood respectfully behind him. “Sir, I’ve spoken with Beaconsfield College. They’ll release Ms. Brielle’s exam details to the public tomorrow,” Patrick announced.

Max’s eyelids twitched, and he acknowledged the news with a detached “Hmm,”

Patrick opened his mouth as if to say something more but thought better of it. A hundred words from him couldn’t measure up to a single word from Ms. Brielle. But the problem was, Ms. Br

Iking

After multiple calls, she’d hung up each one with a cold finality. She had the energy to confront her fans but couldn’t spare a single text message.

Patrick stood silently for a few more minutes before turning to leave, only to hear Max’s voice. “Patrick, do you think she wants to break up with me?”

Max had never been in love before, but he knew this much: indifference often heralded the end. This realization made his lips tighten. His expression was as cold as ice.

The cigarette burned to his fingers, finally snapping him back to reality as he stubbed it out in the ashtray.

When he had decided to be with Brielle, the thought of breaking up had never crossed his mind. In his

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Chapter 689.

mind, being in love meant it was forever.

Patrick was at a loss for words, feeling for the first time that Max didn’t deserve this. So he bowed his head, still pectful as ever. “Sir, love doesn’t always last a lifetime with the same person. Sometimes, you start off thinking it’s right, but as you go along, you realize it’s not. You keep going until you find the night one.”

It wasn’t that Brielle was not good, nor was Max.

Everyone had a gap in their heart like a void letting in the chill of the soul. And that was why people desperately sought another heart to fit perfectly into that space. Belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

Even if Ms. Brielle was as perfect as the sun is round, the jagged, mismatched shape of the hole in Max’s heart might mean she just couldn’t fill it. It was simply a matter of compatibility.

“I see,” Max replied softly, his voice dissipating into the breeze. But from his tone, Patrick could tell he was deeply confused. The Dorsey family had never taught Max how to love or how to sustain a relationship, so he was at a loss.

Love had been endlessly depicted by poets throughout history, seemingly amounting to nothing extraordinary in the end..

“Sir, I believe when you really like someone, you can’t bear the thought of them getting hurt.”

If Ms. Brielle could make Max feel this lost, then perhaps she didn’t like him enough. There was subtlety in Patrick’s words, though he didn’t spell it out.