Chapter 120

After turning on the lights, Giselle glanced at the couch and froze. It was Donovan. Her breath caught as she stared hard at the familiar face, feeling as if she was drowning. It had been just over a month since he forced her to have an abortion, but those 30 days felt like 30 years. She quickly regained her composure. The ripples in her heart stilled again, and she felt nothing—no pain, anger, or surprise. All she harbored toward him was mere indifference, as if he were nothing but a stranger to her. She stopped at about six feet away from him and asked calmly, "May I ask what you're doing here?" Her tone was flat, and she wore a distant expression. Donovan held her gaze. Seeing her distant, almost foreign demeanor, he seemed to no longer recognize her. He took a few long drags on his cigarette before extinguishing it and tossing it into the trash. He said nothing, and she didn't press further. "By the way, what you're doing now counts as illegal trespassing," she added col