Love Began with the First Meeting
Chapter 519 Either Love Me Or Forget Me (Part Two)

Becky gnashed her teeth and asked indignantly, "Is that all you needed to say to me?"

"Yes," Brian was straightforward with his answer, but then his tone softened, "Don't harm her."

"Fine," Becky answered furiously. Her meek look was replaced by ruthlessness. Her eyes turned red with tears brimming in them, but she didn't let them fall. That inferior and weak attitude was not what she wanted to exhibit at that moment. Teeth grinding, Becky accentuated, "Brian, I hate you." Then Becky grabbed her bag and stormed out, and Brian replied calmly, "If you say so..."

Becky halted for a second, then ran out of the door. It was drizzling outside. Becky looked up at the sky and sneered; her eyes were wicked and hateful. When John offered to drive her home, Becky rejected. Yet, at the gate, she came across a car, which instead of entering the villa, waited to drop her off.

Inside the villa, Eric casually poured two glasses of wine - one for himself and one for Brian. But Brian was in no mood to entertain him, he asked coldly, "Shouldn't you be leaving now?"

"You drove away Becky. And now me too?"

Brian took a sip of the wine, then said slowly, "Mol doesn't want to see you."

"Is it Little Molly who doesn't want to see me," Eric laughed evilly, "Or is it you?"

Brian raised his brows arrogantly, and his voice remained cold, "Me? Eric, I certainly didn't want to see you. But that's not because I'm afraid of you winning over Mol. In fact, you should know it yourself that you are the last person Mol wants to see at this point." Eric's smile disappeared and his eyes darkened, "You don't mince your words." He emptied the wine in a gulp, put aside the glass and quietly left. When he reached the door and took out his car keys, his eyes wandered to the room upstairs where Molly was. He looked directly into Brian's cold eyes and said with a new resolve, "Brian, I might be lagging behind now, but I'll catch up soon. And if you win this time, I'll never compete with you again."

Saying that, he turned and walked out. As he turned around to leave the villa, he knew that Brian must have understood his words... He couldn't give up on Molly because he was just too much in love with her to let her go yet.

Molly hesitated for a long time, wondering whether to step out and face them. But, by the time she made up her mind and came out, the villa was already empty. No one was there, except Brian.

"You took your sweet time coming out of there." Brian's voice was scornful, but also a little depressed.

Molly cast a few glares at Brian, then came down. After four years of being away, this place should have been alien to her, yet somehow, she felt at home. Maybe it was because her short stay here was too memorable to forget easily.

Molly ignored Brian and went straight into the kitchen. Since it was not dinner time, Lisa was not around. Molly took a look around and found that all the ingredients they had were Mark's favorites. So, she wore an apron and started stewing a soup.

Brian didn't follow Molly into the kitchen, but the clanking of the vessels gave him some idea of what she was doing. His lips curled into a slight smile; his rigid face turned more gentle.

"Papa Brian..." Mark's childish voice called him. Without even changing his shoes, Mark hurried towards Brian. He asked, with his big innocent eyes wide open, "Is mommy here? Where is she? They said mom was here."

Mark bombarded Brian with a train of questions. He looked at Brian with so much expectation. He was worried that Brian might say no.

"She's here," Brian confirmed, earning a big smile from Mark, "She's in the kitchen."

Mark instantly deserted Brian and galloped towards the kitchen, making Brian sigh slightly. But when he reached the door, Mark stopped.

Molly was chopping vegetables for the soup, but paused because of the noise outside. She turned around and saw Mark at the door. For an entire month, she hadn't seen him. She had missed him so much. "Mark," Molly called. Mark didn't move, he pressed his lips together. As Molly's eyes filled with tears, he hastily gestured, 'Mommy...'

Mark's hand sign unnerved Molly. Tears streamed down her face. She examined Mark closely and asked in confusion, "Mark, you... You..." She was too worried to even spit out a complete sentence. "Why are you using the hand sign? Can't you speak?" Mark's hands froze in the air. Hand signs came instinctively to him now. He had gestured out of habit. But Molly's question reminded him of his ability to speak. He opened his mouth, but didn't utter a word. It was not because he couldn't talk, but because he didn't know what to say.

Mark stepped back and looked at Molly. He was caught in a dilemma. On one hand, he hated it that Molly had lied to him; on the other hand, he had missed his mother so much.

"Mark..." Molly's heart ached. She had never expected that after only a month, Mark would treat her so differently.

Brian came up from behind Mark. His heart broke at Molly's pained expression. Mindlessly he threatened, "If you don't want to see your mother, I'll send her away."

"No!" Mark blurted out, his hands quickly guarding Molly like a hen defending her chicks. He stared at Brian and shouted, "Don't send mommy away."

Brian didn't say anything, but his eyes were full of delight. Meanwhile, Mark felt a hot drop of tear dripping onto his forehead. He raised his head up and saw Molly's tearful, happy look. Meekly he called, "Mom."

"Mark." Molly could no longer control herself. She embraced him tightly, her face stroking his soft cheek.

"Mom." Mark hugged Molly's neck in return. His tears twirled in his eyes, then spilled out.

They hugged each other, and cried into each other's arms. Brian just stood still with mixed feelings. He turned around and sneered at himself- they were a family, but he was alone.

'Mol, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have chained you to me using Mark. But I have no other choice, 'Brian apologized deep down.

Two kinds of emotions surged inside the villa- one of happiness and silent grief. Compared to the harmonious reunion here, an apartment far away from them now was forlorn and lonesome.

On the terrain, Manny watched as Spark stood in the rain and played his violin nonstop. He was completely immersed in his own thoughts. Again and again, he played The Summer Breeze. The melody was no longer crisp and lively, but more desperate and sorrowful. Spark just played the song over and over again like it was not tiring him at all. All he could think about was the park of A City and the Burano island in Venice where Molly had accompanied him quietly.

The rain added to the grief of the song. The originally hopeful melody had turned into something sad and hopeless. Manny looked at Spark who was already soaking wet. He finally lost it and howled, "Spark, if you keep playing like this, your hand might get hurt or even disabled."

But Spark was too busy recollecting those good old memories. He didn't care about anything anymore. He didn't care about his hands, or about the damage he was causing it. He didn't care that he might end up never being able to play the violin again. It didn't matter anymore... He felt like he was falling into an empty well, a deep well with just memories about her.

Spark closed his eyes poignantly. He could no longer restrain himself; tears welled up from his eyes, warming his face, but his heart remained cold.

"Enough is enough!" Manny snatched the bow from his hand, glared at Spark, and shouted, "Do you really want to ruin yourself for her sake?"

Spark smiled bitterly, then opened his eyes- they were red and brimming with tears. He stared at Manny desperately and then the violin in his hand fell to the ground with a clash - a string broke.

Just like their love. Broken. 'Huh!' Spark scoffed at himself.

He stiffly turned around and walked to the room. Manny's yelling echoed behind him. But Spark didn't listen to what he was saying. He locked himself up in the room. He plodded and glanced around. The room was adorned by Mol. Everything here was bought by her. Spark knitted his brows in frustration and felt heartbroken. The scene of happiness had now become a source of sarcasm and sorrow.

As he set his sight on the window where the case sat, his heart wrenched even more.

He was overwhelmed by ridicule. ☐☐☐☐☐☐☐