Dawn Sutherland entered the house, changed her shoes, and when her gaze touched upon the pair of won’s slippers at the entrance, her mood grew heavy with regret and remorse.
Dawn wasn’t hungry and headed upstairs, "You eat first, I’m going upstairs to work."
"Second Young Master Sutherland, these were all made according to Miss’s nu, aren’t you going to have so?" Donna called to Dawn, who was heading upstairs.
Dawn stopped in her tracks, slowly turned around, looked at the dishes on the dining table, and spoke in a low voice, "She asked you to make this?"
"Yes."
Receiving Donna’s nod of confirmation, Dawn turned back to the dining table.
Her gaze fell upon the dishes Donna prepared; they were all her favorites. Dawn picked up a bowl and began to eat slowly and casually, asking Donna, who stood beside her, "Did she say anything before she left? Where she went, or when she’ll be back?"
Donna recalled the scene before Daisy Grant left and shook her head, "Miss didn’t say anything about that. But before she left, she arranged many things, I guess it will take a while before she cos back. Would you believe it, she is pregnant, yet she doesn’t rest properly, saying that anyway, as she’s alone and helpless, she’d better leave early. How can Miss say such things? Has she forgotten? She still has you, Second Young Master! She’s your wife, surely Second Young Master would treat her well."
Donna’s unintentional heartfelt words stabbed straight into Dawn’s heart like a sharp thorn, causing her excruciating pain.
Dawn held the food, finding it hard to swallow like chewing wax, tasteless, "Did she say anything else?" Dawn’s voice was dry and hoarse, sounding sowhat unusual.
"Miss gave a nu, saying these were your favorite dishes, Second Young Master. She also told where your clothes were kept, where your socks and ties were. Miss was really ticulous, rembering your preferences crystal clear! She knows your habits inside out."
Dawn’s fingers grew even stiffer and colder, as if her blood solidified, blocking and making her uncomfortable, "Did she say anything else?"
"Miss said there is an agreent in the study for you to sign..." Donna thought for a mont and continued: "Miss was strange; sotis she would stop halfway through her words. She asked to tell you sothing, but then she added all on her own, ’Forget it, he won’t forgive ’... Second Young Master, did you have a quarrel with Miss? I feel Miss wasn’t happy, though she had a faint smile, the light in her eyes was so sorrowful..."
Dawn’s fingertips trembled fiercely, finding it exhausting even to hold the chopsticks. She placed the bowl and chopsticks on the table, her gaze towards Donna laden with heaviness and self-bla, "Give the nu she wrote for you."
"Okay." Donna took the nu out of her pocket and handed it to Dawn.
Upon receiving the nu, Dawn stood up. Normally Donna’s cooking skills were excellent, but at this mont she found it hard to swallow a single bite, her throat choked up. Strangely, she missed the al Daisy cooked for her yesterday, wanting it more!
"Put away the food, I’m going upstairs." Dawn’s voice was sowhat hoarse.
"Alright."
Dawn went upstairs, returned to the bedroom she shared with Daisy Grant, and searched through it.
Opening the wardrobe, seeing the neatly arranged clothes, her deep eyes brimd with a stinging sensation at the corners, making her, a grown man, want to sentintally shed tears again.
The clothes were neatly placed in the wardrobe, all ironed and categorized, showcasing the care of the person organizing it.
Dawn’s fingers grazed the won’s coat hanging next to her clothes, as if seeing the owner wearing it, her gaze turned slightly moist....
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