His childhood sweetheart, Emma Nolte had a smug look on her face, but her words were affected.
"Oh, Serena, when did you come back? It's all Caesario's fault. He said the kids were all in kindergarten and insisted on bringing me back. I'm sorry, Serena."
Caesario walked out from behind her and put his arm around her waist.
"What's the point of telling her this? What right does she have to ask about what's going on between us?"
"Alright, let's go. Aren't you hungry?"
From beginning to end, Caesario's gaze never fell on me for a moment.
I moved aside to make way for them.
Just as he passed by me, he finally saw the two urns of ashes in my arms.
"What's that thing, gray and fluffy? You're still holding it in your arms. You don't even think it's disgusting."
After saying this, he hugged Emma and left home.
I lowered my head and looked into my arms, gently wiping the surface of the box.
"It's okay, Dad isn't talking about you, don't take it to your heart."
After carefully placing the urn on the coffee table, I began to pack up the children's things one by one.
Clothing, toys, drawing boards.
There was a painting on the canvas that my son had not had time to finish.