"Times change, people change, and it’s normal for tastes to change. President Jones, you’re a busy man; why fuss over what I eat?"
Elly Campbell twisted her eyebrows impatiently and then chuckled nonchalantly. Although the question was indeed trivial, her breezy tone somehow made Adam Jones feel uncomfortable.
If there wasn’t some special reason, why would she change her tastes for no reason at all?
As if possessed, he insisted on dwelling on the issue, "Why did your tastes suddenly change?"
His voice, already deep, now had an added forcefulness, as if he would not rest until Elly answered him.
She couldn’t understand why Adam Jones, who normally wouldn’t even grant her a glance, insisted on prying into the matter of her changing tastes.
Her drooping eyelids lifted slightly, and she looked over at Adam Jones, seeing him staring back at her, those cool, thin eyes bearing an aggressive edge.
Fire rose in Elly’s heart for no reason. She put down her chopsticks, folded her hands on the table in front of her, and looked at Adam Jones, a scornful light in her eyes.
"Let me put it this way to President Jones: My taste in food is like my taste in men. I used to love President Jones just as I used to love eating spicy food. In four years, if my taste in men can change, is it strange that my taste in food has changed too?"
Her tone was exceptionally light, as if she were merely stating a matter of fact to Adam Jones in the tone of a narrator—and that fact was—
She no longer loved him.
Adam Jones looked into Elly’s eyes, which were beautiful, pitch-black, and clear. But when they beheld him, those eyes were devoid of emotion. The admiration and love that once swirled within them were now nowhere to be seen.
The deep-seated affection and adoration he once thought she feigned, he now desperately wished to see again, but they were gone.
For some reason, Adam Jones’s heart tightened, and the familiar dull pain stabbed his heart with a serrated knife sharper than ever before.
Even though she had told him many times before that she didn’t want him anymore, nothing had ever made him feel as sure as this moment that what Elly said was true.
Because the way she said it was too calm, so calm that he couldn’t detect a trace of falsehood.
"Alright, I’m full. Thanks for the meal, President Jones."
Elly stood up, picked up her bag beside her, and stood to leave without a hint of reluctance, but as she passed by Adam Jones, he grabbed her wrist.
Elly’s eyebrows knitted together, annoyance rising on her face. She turned back to look at Adam Jones and caught a fleeting glimpse of desolation in his eyes. Elly paused, and on a closer look, the desolation had disappeared.
Elly instinctively dismissed the desolation she had just seen as an illusion, her expression cooling as she said sternly, "Is there anything else you need, President Jones?"
Every time she called him "President Jones," it felt as though a needle was piercing Adam Jones’s heart, a feeling he profoundly disliked.
Looking up at Elly, he said, "So what? You loved me four years ago and desperately wanted to marry me. Now that there’s another man, you just decide you don’t want me anymore?"
His tone almost carried a repressed anger, yet upon closer listening, it also bore a tinge of grievance.