He decided he should be more mindful in the future. After all, his daughter had been gone for so many years; it was well past time for Bet to move on and live his own life.


    During the meal, Bet kept Bruce and Mr. Moorepany, drinking and chatting with them.


    Their conversation revolved around legal cases, politics, and military affairs-topics the women couldn''t really contribute to.


    Even while engaging with Bruce and Mr. Moore, Bet didn''t forget to take care of Yvonne, serving her food, refilling her soup, and asionally whispering a few words to her.


    There were no overt disys of affection between them, yet the way Bet looked at Yvonne was so intense it was almost tangible. Their asional nces were filled with a lingering tenderness.


    After Yvonne''s death, Bet had be a different person, like a cold, unfeeling machine.


    Now, it seemed he had regained the warmth and emotion of a normal human being.


    The dinner was a lively and warm affair.


    After the meal, the men were clearly a bit tipsy.


    Yvonne joined Monica and Mrs. Moore in clearing the table, cleaning the kitchen, and then busying themselves preparing tea.


    Bruce, having had too much to drink, staggered upstairs to rest.


    Mr. Moore and Bet sat drinking tea in the living room, from where they had a clear view of the three women in the kitchen,ughing and talking as they washed the dishes.


    "Do your parents know you''re dating this youngdy?" Mr. Moore asked, holding his teacup.


    "Yes," Bet replied with a nod, fiddling with a lighter in his hand.


    From his tone, Mr. Moore could guess that his sister would certainly not approve.


    "Given her background, it''s one thing to date her, but if you want to marry her, I''m afraid your parents won''t agree," Mr. Moore continued in a very pragmatic tone.


    Bet''s long fingers toyed with an exquisite golden lighter. With a soft click, a blue me flickered to life.


    The bright me, however, couldn''t prate the darkness of his eyes.


    "When did I ever need their approval to marry someone?" Bet''s voice was calm and cold.


    Mr. Moore sighed, shaking his head. He continued earnestly, "I know you''ve always been independent. No one can stop you from doing what you want, and no one can force you to do what you don''t. But dating and marriage are two different things. In a marriage that doesn''t have the family''s blessing, your youngdy is bound to suffer."


    "With me around, no one can make my woman suffer. And even if I''m not here one


    day, I will have already arranged everything for her," Bet stated.


    His current line of work was


    dangerous. Though he was always


    cautious during drills and missions


    and missions


    trying to avoid injury, He was a


    soldier. Sometimes, life and death weren''t his to decide.


    But whether he lived or died, he would protect Yvonne and ensure she had a peaceful and secure life.


    Mr. Moore nodded. He knew Bet was capable of that.


    Bet''s expression remained cid, but Mr. Moore saw in his eyes the same


    steadfastness and resolve he once had for the first Yvonne.


    "It''s been so many years. It''s a good


    thing you''re finally able to move on from the past," Mr. Moore said, then looked up and saw the


    ck-and-white photo of Yvonne


    hanging on the wall.


    Yvonne had died in her prime—a hero''s death, full of glory. But the dead were gone,


    and it was the ones left behind who suffered the most.


    Her lover, her parents-they were forever trapped in the pain of losing her.