But his silence was enough for Mark to conclude that the result was really not good.

He took a long drag on his cigarette, and then stubbed it out.

Looking at the silent man in front of him, he said in a hoarse voice, “Waylen, since I was a child, I've always believed that every bullet has its billet. But still, I can't bear to part with them."

The thought of parting with Cecilia, Edwin and his unborn child was too much for Mark to bear.

He just couldn't allow himself to die and leave them behind.

“Of course you won't die," Waylen calmly assured him.

His reason for saying this was because Mark hadn't paid Cecilia what he owed her. Whether or not they could be together, the children were his responsibility. Just because he gave her some money didn't mean he had finished fulfilling all of his responsibilities as a father.

Waylen was no sentimentalist.

After telling Mark what he had come to tell him, he simply stood up and left.

Mark sat there in silence all alone. After a while, he looked around the house and he couldn't help but shiver.

ALL the beautiful memories he and Cecilia shared were made here.

During that half a year they spent together, it was like they were in heaven.

But now, it seemed as if it all happened a lifetime ago.

The half-smoked cigarette on the table was quite tempting, but Mark was determined not to smoke it anymore.

He wanted to live long enough to see his baby born.

He wanted to live to see Edwin get married and have children of his own.

Even if he had to see all these while watching Cecilia stumble through life with another man, he wouldn't mind. But if she couldn't find the right person and he was in good health by then, he would try to see if she would be willing to accept him again.

Mark got up and began to touch all the furniture in the living room.

He caressed every piece of furniture as if it was a child. He was so attached to the house that he was reluctant to leave it.

But just then, Peter came back.