For days, I didn’t go home. After finishing my shifts at the restaurant, I spent my time at the library, gathering materials for my studies in London. There was so much to prepare that I almost forgot about the house.
But one morning, Bobby unexpectedly showed up at the restaurant. His face was filled with anger.
"Have you forgotten that you’re married? You have responsibilities to take care of me!" he snapped.
I looked at him coldly. "Isn’t Grace there? I thought the two of you would be fine without me."
"Irish! Grace isn’t a maid. She’s recovering and can’t do household chores. She needs plenty of rest to prevent her liver from relapsing. You should understand that, instead of running away like this!"
"I’m busy, Bobby."
"Busy? You’re becoming disrespectful! Is this how you repay everything I’ve done for you?"
"Bobby, you’re not the only one with priorities. I have mine too. I won’t always cater to your demands, especially when they involve Grace!"
"Ah… so you’re jealous of her?"
I scoffed. "Not at all."
"Your attitude says otherwise."
"And what then? Will you leave her when the truth comes out?"
"Come on, Irish. We’re married. Grace is just a colleague—nothing more."