Love Is Fair

Chapter 207 First Wife Is Always The Best One floor down from the reception hall, there was a tea room. Alan ordered a pot of tea, which had the effect of relieving alcohol. The waiter filled the cup with tea, and the fragrance of the tea was overflowing, and his chaotic brain seemed to be much soberer. “As you get older, you have to learn to take care of your body, drink more tea, and drink less alcohol.” Alan’s voice was mellow and clear. He took a sip of tea, showing the calmness and grace of a superior in his gestures. If it weren’t for his rough palms covered with calluses, there was no trace of his origin in the countryside on him. He had spent thirty years scraping rusticity off him. Now when the post-90s and post-00s talked about Alan Long, he was no longer the “Moore family’s live-in son-in-law” known by the post-70s and 80s, but the famous and suave “Mr. Long”. Owen sat across from him with no expression on his face. He sat for a long time without saying a word. The father and son were sitting face to face. If one looked closer, except for those thin and almost indifferent lips, Owen did not look much like his father. He looked more like his mother Polly. Owen’s eyes looked fierce. Even when he didn’t speak, he gave people a sense of oppression. This was the reason why Alan didn’t ask his son to meet often he could always see the shadow of his ex-wife, Polly, in Owen’s eyes. He swallowed slightly, and asked casually, “How is your mother?” “She’s good,” Owen said lightly. Alan paused, and then asked, “Her legs…” Owen frowned slightly and interrupted him directly, “If you have anything to say, just say it.” “Your quick temper is exactly like your mother.” Alan wasn’t annoyed, but smiled and looked at him gently, “We’re father and son. Can’t we sit down and chat?” Owen only felt annoyed. It was said that a daughter was generally closer to her father while a son was closer to his mother. But when he was a child, he was close to his father. Compared with his strict mother, his gentle father was more amiable. Alan had made toys for him, played games with him, and secretly taken him out to buy snacks and go to the arcade to play games… The combination of a strict mother and a gentle father was a true portrayal of his childhood family. Their family of three had indeed lived happily together for a while. Since when had it changed? Did it start when his father’s career became more and more prosperous, his father and his mother spent more time apart than together, or his neighbor Maya became his father’s secretary? He couldn’t remember. He only remembered that his father and his mother had started to quarrel frequently, and it lasted for ten years. His parents had quarreled almost throughout his adolescence until one day, his mother came home drunk and smashed, tore, and cut everything about his father in the house, and even wanted to take scissors to cut his mouth. Her mother cut his lips with scissors and he was bleeding. He didn’t cry or protest. He just looked at his mother indifferently and said calmly, “You can kill me. Since neither of you loves me, you shouldn’t have given birth to me in the first place.” His mother finally stopped, but it was followed by a hard slap, knocking him directly to the ground: Before he could recover from the severe pain, he heard the scissors fall to the ground, and then he watched his mother jump from the balcony on the third floor like a moth to a flame. “I know you’re blaming me for my divorce from your mother.” Alan’s voice was low and caim. His emotions were mixed with a slight trace of guilt, no remorse. “Your mother and I experienced a lot. We loved each other and hated each other. Maybe the deeper we loved, the deeper we hated.” Alan took a sip of tea, and he sounded ethereal, “Emotionally, it’s hard to tell who is right and who is wrong. Marriage is a business that needs to be managed wisely. I can only say that your mother and I were still too young and impulsive at the time. Many misunderstandings had not been explained clearly, and we were unwilling to bow our heads to tolerate and bear each other. Finally, we had no choice but to divorce,” He sighed softly and looked up at Owen who said nothing, “Son, the only person I feel sorry for is you.” Alan’s deep eyes finally showed a hint of apology and remorse, “The reason why I delayed divorce was that I was afraid that a broken family would hurt and aftect your psychology.” He paused, and his calm tone was mixed with some sobbing. “Do you know how painful it was when I learned of your divorce?” Tears welled up in Alan’s eyes and he said, “I told you Maya that my son followed in my footsteps after all.” “Are you finished?” Owen looked impatient. He picked up the teacup and drank half of the tea to calm himself down. Thinking about what Alan had just said, he suddenly smiled and raised his head.

His sharp eves almost identical to Polly’s were fixed on Alan and he said, “You’re right. I’m like you. I’m as cold and ungrateful as vou.

Owen admitted it frankly, “You don’t have to feel sorry for me. The person you are most sorry for is my mother. I didn’t understand it back then, but now I understand it. You dragged your feet over the divorce not because you were afraid that it would affect me. But