A message from Christy popped up—nothing but a photo of a bed covered with an assortment of adult toys.
He stared at the screen, his Adam’s apple moving involuntarily.
"Lora, there’s a new business at the company, and I need to leave on a trip for a few days."
With that, he hurried out, the corners of his eyes twitching.
I thought back to the countless nights he had rushed out with the excuse of urgent work or the frequent business trips that followed.
Just then, my aunt’s message came through. I opened it, "Lora, your uncle has submitted your immigration application. See you next week!"
Patrick returned exactly a week later. I assumed he would head straight to the office, but to my surprise, he rushed home during the morning rush hour.
Over the past few days, Christy’s social media updates have been relentless. In her latest post, she posed in a white gauzy nightgown, managing to look both innocent and seductive.
Her caption read, "Uncle praised my new battle outfit and said he’d tear it off with his own hands!"
I chuckled coldly and left a casual comment, "It’s his favorite style."
Shortly after, the post vanished.