Anne stared at Gustave, still processing his unexpected plea. He wasn't just asking for her forgiveness—he was asking for punishment, as if enduring some kind of consequence would ease the weight of his guilt.
His remorse was evident in the way he stood, shoulders tense, gaze lowered, waiting for her verdict. He wasn't saying it just to appease her; he truly meant it.
But did she even want to punish him?
A sigh left her lips, and she shook her head. "I'm not punishing you. Just let this go. I'll pretend I never heard anything."
Gustave looked up at her, his expression darkening with guilt. "I know you're still upset with me. You won't accept my apology. Fine. But please, tell me what I can do to make you feel better. I'll do anything you ask."
Anne let out a short, sarcastic scoff. "Really? You say you'll do anything I ask, but you won't even listen when I tell you to drop this."
Gustave opened his mouth, but no words came. He stared at her, speechless.
