Mrs. Young ca in, closed the door, and went to turn on the light. She flicked the switch a few tis, but the light didn’t turn on. She shouted, "Honey, the bathroom light is out! We need to replace it tomorrow!"
Mr. Young’s voice ca from outside, "Okay!"
Sensing soone was in the bathroom, Mrs. Young asked cautiously, "Who’s there?"
Marlon Marshall, realizing he’d been discovered, quickly clamped a hand over her mouth from behind.
"Don’t move."
Her heart leaped into her throat.
"Who are you?"
Marlon Marshall said in a low voice, "I’m sorry, ma’am, for startling you. I’m a classmate of Carol Young’s. She asked to co get sothing. I used the restroom and then couldn’t get out, so I just—"
"Let go of . I won’t scream."
Marlon Marshall let her go. "Ma’am, I’ll be leaving now. I’ll co visit again when I have ti."
He left the bathroom. Mrs. Young couldn’t see his face clearly, but she rembered his voice. "Alright. Do co and visit often."
Marlon Marshall agreed, opened the door, and quickly left the Young family’s ho.
He drove back in a hurry.
When he got back to the upscale residential complex, he noticed Jean Grant’s car wasn’t at the gate. He went inside the courtyard and found the housekeeper sitting in the living room.
"Is Jean not ho?"
The housekeeper nodded. "Sir, the missus went to look for you."
"Where did she go looking?"
"I don’t know."
Marlon Marshall quickly pulled out his phone and called Jean Grant.
The call went through, and Jean Grant returned fifteen minutes later.
Looking at Marlon Marshall standing before her, she felt an inexplicable ache in her heart.
’This is the man I chose. How long has it been, and he’s already starting to co ho so late at night?’
"You’re pregnant. Why are you going out in the middle of the night?" he asked, a hint of bla in his voice.
"Let ask you, Marlon, what on earth are you and your mother trying to pull? You’re out every night. Last ti, you said you were at the hospital all night with your buddy. Which buddy was that?"
Marlon Marshall froze. "I only have one best friend. Who else could it be?"
"But I called him tonight, and he said that wasn’t the case. So why don’t you explain that to ?" Jean Grant had always been direct; she said what was on her mind and didn’t like to bottle things up.
"Alright, honey, it’s the middle of the night. Are you going to let a man get any sleep? I had classes all day. What’s wrong with going out with friends at night? You’re making a big deal out of nothing!"
Jean Grant felt a pang of hurt seeing his dismissive tone. "What’s wrong with it? I’m four months pregnant, and you’re out there living it up."
Marlon Marshall sighed and pulled her into a hug. "Honey, I won’t do this again, okay?"
"Then tell the truth. Where were you that night?"
Marlon Marshall had no choice but to say, "I’m sorry, honey. I lied to you. I went to a club with them that night. I didn’t want to go, but they dragged along, saying I’d forgotten my friends now that I’m married."
"Then you should have just told ! Why did you lie to ?"
Marlon Marshall switched to a gentle approach, kissing her. "It’s after midnight. If you don’t sleep, our daughter needs to. You’ll wake the baby."
He placed a hand on her belly. "Right?"
Jean Grant shrugged him off and went upstairs. Marlon Marshall followed close behind.
In the bedroom, Jean Grant turned on the heat. She waited for the room to warm up before taking off her clothes to get ready for bed.
He closed the door, sat on the edge of the bed, and took her hand. "Don’t be angry anymore, okay? I promise, I won’t co ho so late again. I’ll check in with you about everything!"
"Really?"
"Really! If I ever lie to you again, may I be struck by lightning!"
Jean Grant took off her coat. "I’ll trust you this one last ti. If there’s a next ti, Marlon, you’d better watch your back!"
This ti, Jean Grant didn’t suspect a thing.
It was only much later, as more ti passed, that she would slowly co to realize the truth.
*
In the early morning, the snow had stopped, and the sky had cleared.
Nora Ainsworth woke from her dreams.
She opened her eyes to find Quentin Grant no longer by her side.
She sat up and checked the ti. It was already nine o’clock.
She got dressed and finished washing up.
Then she went downstairs. Standing at the kitchen doorway, she watched the man in the apron and couldn’t help but think, ’This feeling is so nice.’
"Are you making breakfast?"
Quentin Grant turned and smiled at her. "If it’s not , who else would it be?"
"Do you want my help?"
"It’s almost ready. Go sit down and wait." He turned off the stove and brought the breakfast out.
Two eggs, toast with jam, warm milk, and a bowl of century egg and lean pork congee.
She sat primly at the table. Quentin Grant peeled an egg and handed it to her, but she didn’t take it. "You feed ."
Quentin Grant popped the egg into her mouth. "What’s so hard about this? Co on, open up."
Nora Ainsworth chuckled. "Okay."
She obediently opened her mouth and stuffed the whole egg inside, her cheeks puffing out.
"Wash it down." He handed her the milk.
Nora Ainsworth nodded, took a large gulp of milk to wash the egg down, her heart filled with warmth.
He ate slowly and thodically. ’His fingers are long and slender with well-defined knuckles. Such beautiful hands.’
"Even your hands are prettier than mine."
Quentin Grant set down his cup with a fondly exasperated smile. "From now on, everything I have, including , is yours. What’s there to be unsatisfied about, hmm?"
Nora Ainsworth was happy again. "That’s true. I want your words to have a ten-thousand-year shelf life. They can’t expire a day sooner!"
He smiled dotingly, taking in the sight of her happy face. "Okay."
After breakfast, a maid cleared the table. Nora Ainsworth said, "Chloe is probably waiting for in the van outside. I have to go back to the studio."
Quentin Grant considered for a mont, then replied, "Alright."
He stood up, placed a white hat on her head, wrapped a scarf around her neck, and finally, hung a pair of cute gloves around her neck.
"It’s cold out. Don’t be a fool and forget to take care of yourself. Once you wrap up filming in the next couple of days, you’re not allowed to take any more acting jobs without my permission. Just stay by my side and don’t go running off again."
Nora Ainsworth leaned against his chest. "I won’t run off again. Quentin... do you really not mind?"
He held her tightly. "Nora Ainsworth, if you’re willing, we can adopt a child later on. It’s up to you. For now, finish filming, focus on getting your health back, and then we’ll think about it. Don’t think about anything else. Just know this: in life, I, Quentin Grant, am your man, and in death, I’ll be your ghost. The sa goes for you. If you ever dare to scare like that again, Nora Ainsworth, I’ll—"
She looked up at him. "You’ll what?"
A helpless smile touched his features. "I really don’t know what to do with you. It’s my own fault for loving you so much."
"I won’t do it again, Quentin. As long as you are true to , I will be true to you."
"Whoever breaks this vow shall never again receive the other’s love."
For soone deeply in love, there is likely no greater pain.
She answered softly, "Okay."
"I’ll walk you out. Chloe is already waiting."
The two of them walked side by side, hand in hand. They opened the main door, and sure enough, Nora Ainsworth’s van was parked at the gate.
She got in the car.
The door closed, and the window rolled down.
Her face appeared. "Quentin, I—"
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