“Look at yourself. Is wooing the woman you fancy more challenging than your former job? At Least you applied intellect in your professional duties. With Cecilia, it seems you're all talk, no heart. Consider your age, and hers."

In the past, Mark might have mocked himself.

But today, irritation got the better of him; he remained silent and retreated upstairs to his study.

Zoey's gaze lingered on Mark's retreating figure.

Drawing close, Peter whispered, "He was rejected. Cecilia paid him no mind."

"I see," Zoey affirmed, nodding.

"It's no wonder she ignores him.

Does he still consider himself the young, charming man he once was?

He's not the only one entitled to cast judgment. Can't he also be on the receiving end?"

Edwin bobbed his head in agreement.

Despite her sharp tongue, Zoey prepared a bowl of wontons and took it to the study later that night.

Mark sat, engulfed by gloom, in his study.

Zoey entered, placing the bowl before him, her voice softening.

“Have some. You seem like you haven't had the appetite for anything all day."

Mark whispered a "mom" under his breath.

Sensing his low spirits, she patted his hand, reassuring, "She holds you in her heart, albeit with resentment With a rueful smile, Mark acknowledged, "I know."

Zoey gestured to the bowl, philosophizing, "Just like eating preferences vary; some relish coriander, others don't. Love mirrors this. Conflicting desires mean paths not taken together. Recall your treatment abroad. You pushed her away, fearing she wouldn't be able to bear the worst. But did you ever consider her wishes? Her strength? Mark, you possess strength but are often blinded by self- interest."

Mark consumed his dinner in silence, albeit only half.

Zoey playfully swatted him, chiding, "Go apologize to her, now. She's avoided visiting because of your spat."

Mark unwrapped a mint candy.