Although I knew what was about to happen, I still felt nervous, scared and sad.
"I think we ... should just separate," he said quietly, as if mustering a lot of courage.
"Why? What's wrong with us?" I tried to asked casually.
"It's not you, it's me ..." he said.
"What's wrong with you? Have you fallen for someone else?" I asked him again.
He answered, "No, I just think I'm not suited for marriage. I can't get along with your family."
Just as my dad said, he was using this as an excuse. "Didn't you promise to stay together forever?" I still want some explanation.
"Some things change." He lowered his head and fell silent and the room was suddenly so quiet that I could hear the clock ticking. Connor wiped his face, his voice trembling, "I really can't take it anymore..."
I didn't want to continue this charade, so I took out my phone, showed him the screenshots of the orders he placed for "Little Missy," and threw it to him.
Seeing the picture, Connor's expression shifted from pain to shock.
"You logged into my account?" Like all scumbags, when confronted, he didn't reflect on his mistakes but questioned how I invaded his privacy.
"Who is "Little Missy"?" I demanded.