Brian's gaze followed her retreat as he compressed his lips, a thin Line of concern.

How could she find him disgusting?

What was her perception of him, really?

Without love, he would never have laid a hand on her.

Wasn't there a saying that even quarreling couples found solace in each other's arms?

Yet, she refused his touch!

Outside, the daylight waned, casting a soft glow that soon surrendered to dusk.

The riverside remained deserted, a silent witness to their confrontation.

Brian stared at the receding silhouette, his frustration boiling over as he slammed a fist onto the steering wheel.

He had intended to reconcile, to clear the air.

Instead, everything had escalated.

On the road, Rosalynn's heels clicked slowly, her heart racing.

Taking deep breaths, she sought to regain her composure. She scanned her surroundings, then pulled out her phone, hoping to book a ride- hailing service.

But her request went unanswered; the remoteness of their location thwarted her efforts.

It was all Brian's fault! She muttered under her breath, damning Brian for stranding her in such a desolate place. She was resigned to walk back.

Just then, a car sped toward her and halted abruptly nearby.

The window descended to reveal a face, strikingly handsome.

Lyndon was the one who had arrived.

"Rosa," he called out to her.

Upon recognizing a familiar face, Rosalynn's excitement grew.