The moment the words left her mouth, she stiffened.
His hand paused for just a fraction of a second before continuing.
"I was bored," he said flatly. "And I wanted to raise a pet. You happened to fit my taste."
The answer was blunt. Almost cruel in its simplicity.
And precisely because it was so simple, she couldn't find a crack in it.
Was it really… that straightforward?
Just because she happened to cross paths with him that night?
Her heart felt restless, and before she could stop herself, she asked, "Then… if the person you met that night hadn't been me, but someone else—would you have chosen her instead?"
For a moment, the car was silent.
"I don't speculate about things that can't happen," he replied calmly. "That's pointless. The woman that night was you. Time doesn't rewind. I won't meet another woman in that moment. That's all."
The conversation ended there, cleanly and decisively.
She stared ahead, stunned—then suddenly laughed.
