After saying that, he seemed to realize he had said the wrong thing. His expression tightened as he explained, "This was a gift from the shopkeeper when Tracy bought some sachets. She didn't like the smell, so she gave it to me."
I didn't respond at all, just looking outside the window.
We arrived at the restaurant, and Tracy, who was already seated, was startled when she saw me but quickly changed her expression.
She greeted warmly, "Eve, come on."
Frank and I sat opposite her, and the waiter brought the menu.
Tracy said, "Frank, Eve likes seafood, so I'll order some..."
"No."
Before she could finish, Frank immediately interrupted, frowning seriously, "Don't you remember you're allergic to seafood?"
"I won't eat it then," Tracy cooed playfully.
"You're so greedy. Can you really resist it?" Frank disagreed, snatching the menu and starting to order.
Tracy propped her chin with her hands, smiling sweetly at him.
I sat beside them like a transparent person, watching their harmonious and intimate interaction.
I felt like I was in an ice cellar. The air around me seemed to turn bitter and unusually heavy.