"There’s an issue with a contract. It’s related to the company’s profits for the second half of the year..."
"Mm," I said, putting my phone down and looking up at him. "It’s fine, go ahead and handle it. Work comes first."
I kept my expression calm, just like usual. Keeping things from David was always easy for me.
He hesitated for a few seconds, then grabbed his coat and walked toward the door, turning back to look at me.
"Sweetheart, if I’m late, don’t wait for me."
"Go to bed early," I replied.
David seemed still a little uneasy. He repeated, "If anything comes up, call me. For you, I’ll always make time."
I smiled and nodded, reassuring him.
Only then did David reluctantly leave.
The housekeeper, Shelly, walked in holding a bowl of bird’s nest soup, still teasing, "Mr. Scott really treats you well. Even I, an old woman, can’t help but envy you."
I took the soup, smiled and didn’t respond.
David loved me. Everyone knows about it.
No one ever doubted David’s love for me and I never did either. But love is a fleeting thing—elusive and unpredictable. It’s ever-changing and hard to grasp. What’s the point of talking about forever?
That day, David didn’t come home.