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…他。) 汤姆乌眸微狭,眼神变得复杂,带着些许犹豫:“Him? You mean…my…father?”(他?你是说……我……父亲?) 最后那个词缓慢地咀嚼出口,仿若吐蜡。 梅洛普轻轻点了点头,嘴唇微微颤抖,缓缓道:“I loved him, Tom. I really did. Or… I thought I did. When I first saw him, he was everything I’d ever dreamed of. Handsome, confident… Free. He was…like a ray of sunlight, so distinct from the dark, suffocating world I grew up in. But… he didn’t love me. And of course he didn’t love me…”(我爱过他,汤姆。我真的爱过他。起码我觉得我真的爱过他。我第一次见到他的时候……他是我能梦想到的一切。英俊,自信…… 自由。他就像一缕……阳光,与我所熟知的那个黑暗、窒息的世界大相径庭。但……但他……不喜欢我……他当然不会喜欢我……) 汤姆的目光渐渐冰冷,语气中透出一丝法官般犀锐:“So you used Amortentia.”(所以你用了迷情剂。) 梅洛普闭上眼,仿佛被这句话击中了最脆弱的地方:“Yes…I did. I used it. I told myself it was the only way. That I would never see him otherwise…and he would never understand that I could make him happy. That I could mend clothes and make porridge and clean the house and be a good wife. I just needed to give him a little push…for him to see whom I really was.(没错,我用了迷情剂。我告诉自己,那是唯一的办法。不然我永远都见不到他……他也永远不会明白,我可以让他快乐。我会缝补衣服,会熬煮粥羹,会打扫房子,我能做一个好妻子。我只是需要稍微推他一把……让他看到我的真正模样。”) “But deep down, I knew it w
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