The two of them silently stared at each other, as if something in the air had frozen.
Peter opened his mouth as though to say something, but nothing came out. He stood up stiffly, unsure of what to do next, and paced around the room in a slight panic.
Suddenly, Peter took a large step forward and forcefully placed his hands on Abigail's shoulders, speaking urgently, "I promise you, I swear, I promise you, whatever you say, I will listen. I won't do anything you don't want me to do—"
Abigail jumped at his touch, and the spoon in her hand fell into the food box, splashing a few droplets of water.
It was clear Peter wasn't good at speaking romantically. His face turned red, and he hurriedly let go of Abigail's shoulders, pacing back and forth, his mind in complete disarray, "I swear, I'll protect you in the future…"
Abigail quietly watched him. When he finally calmed down, she softly said, "Peter."
Peter hurriedly turned around to look at her, hope in his eyes.
Abigail smiled as gently as she could, "Actually, I really like Spider-Man."
"I like his courage, his sense of responsibility, and his willingness to help others… He's a great, great superhero, someone who deserves to be admired."
Peter opened his mouth, as if to say something, but froze, looking at her sadly. "Abigail, don't say that, I… I won't be Spider-Man anymore."
Abigail spoke softly, "But the person I love is Peter."
"The one who has nothing but his heart."
"I'm glad you became Spider-Man, and I'm happy for you having such extraordinary abilities. So, I hope you can be a good, competent superhero. I hope your passion will be rewarded, and I hope you'll receive the recognition you deserve."
After saying this, she murmured to herself, almost in a whisper, "But I don't love you, Spider-Man."
That burning passion had slowly been extinguished in the long wait and the fear.
After finishing her words, Abigail continued calmly drinking the now-cold soup. She looked up at Peter and smiled. "Aunt May's soup is really delicious. Please thank her for me."
Peter lowered his head and stood still for a long time. He thought Abigail was just angry with him, but she wasn't.
She didn't yell at him for being late like she used to. She didn't cry out of fear because he hadn't found her in time. She didn't even seem like she wanted to get mad at him.
She just smiled faintly, her beautiful eyes showing a hint of distance, speaking softly.
But all of this was far more painful than if she had yelled, gotten angry, or even hit him.
Her previous reckless behavior had been out of love, so it was allowed.
But now, her politeness stood like a transparent wall between them, separating them.
Peter felt anger rise within him, provoked by her polite distance. After fumbling around in a panic for a while, he suddenly seemed to realize something, and he raised his head, staring at Abigail with a fixed gaze. "Does this have anything to do with that man from last night?"
Abigail, who had been drinking the soup, froze and widened her eyes in disbelief. Did he know what he was saying?
Abigail furrowed her brows sharply, almost sneering as she looked at him, "What do you mean?"
Peter froze, and it took him a while to realize the implication of his words. He hadn't even meant to say it. In a panic, he quickly added, "Abigail, I didn't mean… I didn't mean you…"
He wasn't saying that she had changed her affections or was fickle.
He just…
Abigail's face, once calm, now darkened with anger. She pointed at the door, each word sharp as a knife. "Leave."
Peter hurriedly protested, "I didn't mean that! I'm just worried he might have threatened you or something. He's so strong, I'm just worried about you… I… I wasn't blaming you…"
Abigail gritted her teeth and repeated, "Leave."
Peter wanted to argue, but then he felt a sharp pain in his hand. He instinctively looked down and saw that his hand, which had been perfectly fine, now had a small, dense bump on one of his fingers.
Whether it was out of fear or anger, Abigail's voice suddenly screamed, "Get out!"
Seeing her so angry, Peter had no choice but to step back and slowly close the door.
Abigail's tightly clenched fingers relaxed, and the bump on Peter's hand slowly disappeared.
After sending Peter away, a wave of intense fear suddenly gripped Abigail's heart. All these years, she had been a good student at school, a good employee at work. But just yesterday, she had almost killed someone.
Even though that person deserved to die, the feeling of losing control over that power terrified her.
She was afraid of being looked at differently, afraid of becoming an outcast, afraid of… hurting others.
Just after Peter closed the door, Tony came in casually, holding a bouquet of flowers and placing them in a vase on the bedside table. He then said, "What happened yesterday? Wasn't Peter with you? Why did things go wrong? Are you okay now? Did you get hurt yesterday?"
After asking several questions, Tony didn't get an answer. He turned to look at Abigail and saw her face buried in her arms, as if she were terrified, her shoulders trembling slightly.
Tony was alarmed and hurried to sit beside her. "Abigail?"
Abigail whispered, "Master, I wasn't with Peter yesterday."
"I waited for him for five hours."
"When I was held at gunpoint by a murderer, I thought he would come to save me."
"But he didn't. He never came."
Until, in her fear, she lost control and pierced the man's body with sharp spikes.
After Abigail spoke, she didn't get an answer from Tony. She looked up in confusion and saw him standing up with a serious face, flexing his fingers.
Then, he walked out in large strides, catching up to Peter, who was walking disheartened in the hallway, and punched him squarely.
Abigail listened to the sounds of the fight, her heart pounding. Soon after, Mr. Stark walked back, calmly straightening his suit.
He brushed off the dust from his shoulder, saying casually, "Oh, I've taken care of it for you."
Abigail: "…"
Did you just punch a spider-man, whose physical endurance is 20 times stronger than a human's…?
Though this may be a bit of a blow to his self-esteem, you really… can't hurt him…
Uh…
Abigail said sincerely, "Thank you, Master."
Tony took out his phone and casually said, "No big deal."
Abigail looked at him, still puzzled, as she tilted her head. "?"
Tony calmly raised the smartphone in his hand. "Oh, didn't get a good punch in? I'll pay some people to give him another round."
…
Mr. Stark, do your employees know how much you're willing to spend on this?
Abigail had initially thought to say, "Hey, don't do it, it's not good," but then reconsidered. After all, it's not like they can kill him, so why not just beat him to a pulp?
Thus, Abigail naturally accepted this point.
Tony Stark, being a busy man, after confirming Abigail was fine and comforting her for a bit, hurried off to catch a flight.
Abigail had planned to handle her discharge papers herself, but when she left the room, she found Peter still hadn't left. Though his face was uninjured, his hair was a bit messy. He gently asked if Abigail wanted to go home.
Abigail nodded. He immediately went to handle her discharge papers, then silently accompanied her home.
He skipped his classes, his part-time job, and even saving the world today. The last time he had a day like this was a long time ago.
Abigail didn't ask him to leave again. Before saying goodbye, she added another "thank you."
When she got home, the first thing she did was rush downstairs to her mother's room to ask about her father.
Unexpectedly, her mother, who rarely came home, was sitting at the vanity, putting on lipstick. She glanced up at Abigail without asking where she had been.
Abigail's relationship with her mother had always been distant, so she didn't plan to tell her anything. Instead, she walked over and asked, "Mom, can you tell me about my father?"
For many years, her mother had never brought up her father in front of her. In fact, she barely saw her mother even once a year. Now that she had moved to New York and her mother knew she had a high-paying job and a property in a prime location, she had suddenly shown up and insisted on living with her.
Abigail had thought her mother might talk a bit more since she had a new car, but instead, her mother merely turned her head, casually replied, "I don't even know who your dad is."
As she said this, she put away the lipstick and eyebrow pencil, adjusted her backless dress, stood up with graceful movements, and pointed to a box in the corner of the room. "There, that box has diaries. It's got every man I've ever been with. You can figure out who your father is by looking at your birthday and counting the dates. You should find five or six possible candidates."
Abigail: "…Oh."
After her mother left, Abigail opened the box in the corner.
…
Abigail stared at