Arabella's Misunderstanding

Arabella felt as if someone had stabbed her heart with a sharp knife, the pain unbearable.

Her face was as white as paper, and she could barely stand straight.

She gripped the railing tightly, her knuckles turning white.

And this man, just this morning, had been completely devoted to her, wanting to carry her in his pocket, taking her wherever he went.

But now, here he was, chatting and laughing with his ex-girlfriend.

The old saying was right — you can't trust a man's words; they are just lies.

Emily, seeing Arabella in this state, was frightened. She grabbed her hand and urgently asked, "Arabella, what's wrong? Are you feeling unwell? Is it because the Ferris wheel is too high? Are you afraid of heights?"

Arabella nodded numbly, her chest heaving.

A full minute passed before the color returned to Arabella's pale face. She scoffed at herself.

No wonder Reginald didn't want her to leave the house.

Talking about the outside world was too dangerous; he just didn't want her to see him wi