Pride and Aspiration

“You hate me,”

a bitter voice uttered with pain. Her eyes were red, suppressing tears that would reveal a feeling completely opposite to his.

“Yes! But you probably love me,”

Chanakant’s words were laced with open mockery. He felt no guilt for causing Mueangmalee even deeper pain,

because no matter how much pain she felt, it couldn’t compare to the pain of Phakawat, who died because of her heartless journalistic actions, or to the pain of him carrying this stigma until his death.

“I thought you liked me.”

His strong jaw clenched, veins bulging in his neck. Chanakant wanted to grab her and strangle her, but he was too disgusted to touch the skin of such a wicked woman.

“How dare you misunderstand like that? How can someone who does everything for themselves without caring about anyone else’s life be happy? Your common sense must be terrible.” “Your bad nature is so deeply ingrained it’s hard to dig up, and yet you’re begging for my love? That’s delusional. After all the wicked things you’ve done, I could never, ever love you.”

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