Brendan froze in place.

Deirdre tilted her head up, her hands cradling his face. Her eyes were filled with a reddish hue, unable to see clearly yet seemingly able to see everything.

Brendan even caught a trace of guilt and pity in her gaze.

Pity?

Brendan was displeased. Since when did he need a woman to pity him?

He turned his face away and demanded, "Deirdre, never look at me with that kind of expression."

That expression confused him and made him feel uneasy. It was as if everyone else knew something that he was completely oblivious to.

"If you suddenly realize the harm you caused to my mother and seek my forgiveness, it's too late. The dead cannot be brought back to life, and there is no turning back from the wrongs you have committed," he added.

"I know," Deirdre replied softly. "I don't expect to earn your forgiveness that I have made a mistake."

Brendan was suddenly stunned, staring at the woman as she lowered her eyes. He restrained his expression as a whirlwind of mix