“No? No. I did not cry. Why would I cry, Oliver?”
Oliver frowned as he took his steps forwards towards his mother. Though he was not an emotional person and never had any sentimental conversations with his mother, he still loved her.
How could he see her crying like that?
He placed his hand over her shoulder and asked softly, “What is wrong, Mother?”
His mother was stunned by his soft voice and she couldn’t hold onto her tears and a few droplets slipped out of her eye sockets.
She still adamantly cleaned them and shook her head, “Nothing, son. There is really nothing.”
“Mom,” Oliver pressed on. He couldn’t bear to see his mother in such a fragile state.
If she had a problem, he wished that she would share it with him so that he would settle it for her.
Why should his, Oliver’s, mot
