Resent, Reject, Regret

Chapter 623 Every Wrong Has Its Cause

Brendan exuded a powerful presence that felt like the air was burning with anger. However, he suddenly stuffed the medicine back into the bag the next moment.

“You spare no effort to make an excuse and act so mysteriously. I thought that it was something else, so it’s just a contraceptive pill. Are you being so secretive because you’re scared that I will be displeased? Deirdre, you know that you’re overthinking, right?”

Deirdre was stunned by Brendan’s reaction for a moment, but she realized soon that she should not have acted secretively.

She did not wish to be pregnant with Brendan’s child, and he should also share the same thoughts. Why would she think that Brendan would be angered by her decision?

“You’re right. I’m overthinking the situation.” She relaxed, unboxed the medicine, and removed the pill from the packaging before taking it with water.

Brendan watched from behind. His expression could not be seen clearly due to the poor lighting.

After Deirdre swallowed the pill, Brendan said, “It seems that the man has taught you a lot. You weren’t that sensible in the past. You would spare no effort in seizing the opportunity to get pregnant with my child at the time.”

Deirdre had no idea why Brendan would talk about the past.

only making small talk or found her past

great lesson, and it

when her voice died away. Brendan picked up his jacket that was placed on the sofa and said in a rigid tone,

did not call him out for his poor trick of avoiding the topic of conversation,

being opened and shut as she unwrapped a packet of

her appetite after Brendan

munch on an apple after being

empty. She turned on the television and leaned against the sofa while

has

the blanket, when the door

was Brendan. She asked in puzzlement, “Didn’t you just head out?

hear an answer, the person stretched out his hand, and a

her might, yet she could not fight the intense

eyes and inhaled sharply when she regained consciousness. She felt a shiver down her spine at the thought of

‘Who was it?’