When returning to the alley, it was almost dawn.
Nora Scott walked along a stretch of road in the chilly night, umbrella in hand. The streetlights cast a dim yellow glow, and the bluestone pavent had been washed clean and bright by the rain.
The main gate was ajar. She pushed it open, and the yard was pitch black, not a single light on.
Her high heels clicked crisply on the ground, interweaving with the pattering sound of the rain.
"ow~"
After closing the umbrella and tossing it into the bucket, Nora bent down at the entrance to change her shoes and suddenly heard Rose’s call.
Rose quietly crept over, circling around her. Once Nora set her shoes aside, she picked up Rose and carried her into her arms, stepping into the living room.
At this mont, the door to Antonio Easton’s bedroom opened, spilling out light. The young caretaker, who was rotating shifts to look after Antonio, stepped in.
"Miss Scott, Sir Easton would like you to co in for a mont," the caretaker softly relayed.
"Awake?"
"Yes."
The caretaker nodded slightly and stepped to the side.
After a mont of thought, Nora, holding Rose, did not delay and walked into Antonio’s bedroom.
Antonio sat up, leaning back against the pillows, appearing thinner by the day. Nora glanced at him twice and then slightly lowered her eyelids, avoiding his gaze.
Nora asked, "Couldn’t sleep, or just woke up?"
"Just woke up."
Antonio’s voice was hoarse. He paused, turned his head to look at her, and slowly asked, "How is the person?"
Her hand resting on Rose’s head, Nora replied in a sowhat light voice, "Gone."
"Hmm."
Antonio responded lightly.
After a short while, he advised, "Go take a hot bath and rest well."
"Hmm." Nora replied, turned to leave, but then paused, turning back to him, "Spring is coming; when the weather gets better, I’ll accompany you for a walk."
"Alright."
Antonio slightly closed his eyes and nodded.
*
There was silence all along the way.
When the car reached the building, Michael Quinn stepped on the brake and stopped.
Laura Collins fiddled lightly with the seatbelt, pressing her lips tight, watching the raindrops trickle down the car window, yet made no move.
They remained silent for a mont.
Looking straight ahead, Michael did not turn to look at her, only softly advising, "Go back and rest well. They won’t have ti to look for you lately."
"..."
Laura said nothing.
Michael didn’t urge her either.
The car sank into silence; outside, the cold city was soaked in the sound of rain, while inside, the narrow space seed like another world, so quiet that even the sound of breathing was distinctly clear.
After a long while, Laura took a deep breath, finally asking, "Michael, is there nothing you want to say to ?"
His hand unconsciously groped in his pocket, feeling a pack of cigarettes. Michael didn’t take them out, rely kneading it a few tis.
His other hand draped over the steering wheel, he turned his head slightly, trying to sound casual, "Say what?"
"You..."
Breathing gently, Laura’s eyes reddened, she suddenly turned around to see Michael’s carefree deanor, seeming detached, without any of the emotions she wished to see.
Her lips were bitten pale, Laura’s fingers gripped the seatbelt tightly, speaking with added anger, "If you want to cut off ties, then do it clean. Is showing up just to keep your presence known really that fun?"
Michael was slightly taken aback, his gaze lingering on her face for a mont.
The car was unlit, and the streetlight was dim. Laura’s face was hidden in shadow, but through her faint outline, he could barely discern her furrowed brows, the anger and sorrow in her eyes transmitted through the air, making his breath hitch.
"Oh."
After a while, he responded, his tone light, as if amused.
Laura stared at him blankly, her breaths carrying a bitterness to her throat, she opened her mouth, her voice trembling a little, "Oh what?"
Her gaze burned like fire, after being stared at for two seconds, a strange emotion flashed in Michael’s eyes, but only for an instant before he looked away.
His fingers gently tapped on the steering wheel, he raised his eyes, looking ahead, his gaze falling on the bushes washed clean by the rain by the roadside.
"Sorry, it won’t happen again."
His voice was slightly hoarse, eliciting a bit of cheerfulness, mingled with only a hint of guilt.
But as the air slightly stirred, that hint of guilt vanished.
Laura finally fell into despair, after a few brief seconds of being stunned, she abruptly unbuckled her seatbelt, turned the car door open, and marched out.
"Hey, the umbrella—"
Michael spun around quickly, wanting to call out to her.
However, the only response was the "bang" of the door shutting, followed by Laura striding towards the building, her resolute figure not once looking back.
In the car, Michael didn’t move, blankly watching Laura’s figure retreating until it disappeared completely into the building.
He did not leave.
Unaware of how long he sat in a daze, he took out the pack of cigarettes from his pocket, selected one, and lit it, wisps of smoke curling up. As the lighter’s light dimd, the dim car was left with only a faint speck of light.
User Comments
0 comments from readers