William Moore sat on the sofa, holding a cup of coffee, but not drinking it. His eyes were lowered, lost in thought.
Time seemed to have a particular fondness for this man.
Eddison looked at the other's elegant face that remained unchanged over the years, and couldn't help but sigh.
Over the years, this man, apart from becoming more refined and elegant in his appearance and possessing an increasingly ethereal air, seemed unchanged.
The youthful boy, as delicate as a young girl in memory, had now become a world-renowned pharmacist, yet the aura of solitude around him had never shifted a bit.
Loneliness was as profound.
He always wished that William Moore could fall in love with another woman once more.
But how could he not understand in his heart that someone like William Moore, if he could fall in love with someone else, how could he have been single for so long?
