He Chose His White Moonlight—So I Chose His Bloodline

He stayed silent.

I held my breath, feeling a wave of tension wash over me.

In my previous life, Rory went mad searching for my urn.

When he found it, he clutched it tightly, leaning against the wall, trembling uncontrollably. His cold eyes had reddened rims.

Afterward, he brought my urn back to his home, carefully storing it in a cabinet.

Inside, there was also a photo album.

Each page contained images of me.

Rory remained unmarried all his life, with that album and urn beside him.

Upon his death, he instructed his family to bury my urn and album with him.

Thinking about it now made my nose tingle and eyes start to burn.

"Don't cry," Rory ordered irritably, frowning.

"I'll take you back."

I was crouched on the ground, looking at him with pleading eyes.

Seeing I wasn't moving, his frown deepened, "What's wrong now?"

Softening my voice, I extended my hand, "My legs are numb. I can't get up."

With a contemptuous click of his tongue, he helped me up and shoved me into the car, still wearing a cold expression.

The car was quiet; neither of us spoke.

Through the window's reflection, I watched his profile, my mind filled with thoughts.

Rory was Spencer's cousin.

Back in the day, he was also a prominent figure at school.

Handsome, with excellent grades, but reserved and not one to smile.

Back then, my heart and eyes were all for Spencer. I barely noticed Rory.

In my past life, each New Year's at the Slater residence was when I'd see him.

He never spoke to me, his gaze always cold and full of disdain.

Everyone called me Spencer's loveslave.

I thought Rory felt the same, which explained his animosity toward me.

Even now, his attitude toward me was icy.

I couldn't help but wonder if he truly liked me.

"Back to the Slater residence?" Rory's cold voice broke the silence.

Startled, I turned my head abruptly.

He was looking at me sideways.

Our eyes met, and my heart skipped a beat.

I let out a strained laugh.

"Going back now? He'd tear me apart."

Rory narrowed his eyes and scoffed.

He then turned the steering wheel around.

The direction was my home.

In my previous life, after marriage, I used the money Spencer gave me to buy a one-bedroom apartment near the company.

Initially, it was for occasional stays due to late work.

Later, it became a refuge when Spencer and I argued.

"I'm heading off," Rory said, dropping me at the door and turning to leave.

On impulse, I grabbed his clothes, "Don't go."

"Penelope."

"I... I’m scared of the dark."

Rory turned, his cold eyes bore into me, his voice even more frosty.

"Penelope, I'm not your rebound."

Grasping his sleeve, I lightly shook my head, "You're not."

"Let go."

With my head bowed, I didn't move.

"Penelope!"

He frowned, looking at me with deep, cold eyes filled with countless emotions.

Recalling our past life together, a wave of indescribable sorrow surged within me.

"Rory Dorne, don't leave."

"I have no home, no one who cares."

"I'm alone... very lonely... and scared..."

I spoke with my head down, my voice growing quieter.

"All these years, everyone says I'm a loveslave, shameless..."

"It's normal for you to hate me."

"I'm sorry for crossing the line."

"Just go."

My body unable to stop trembling, tears streamed down my face.

"What's with the crying?"

"Hideous."

I knew Rory had softened.

He followed me inside.

I suggested he sit on the couch while I tidied up.

I couldn't stand the extravagant dress I was wearing.

No matter how I looked at it, it screamed "shame."

The apartment was small, with few belongings and even fewer clothes.

After some searching, I found a panda nightgown.

The dress wasn’t too short; it barely reached my thighs.