One of the wrists was adorned with the same watch that had been mistakenly sent to me today.
[Your company is worth more than all the beauty in the world.]
My stomach turned as I looked at the image.
It wasn't until the early morning hours that Francine finally arrived home.
The sound of her high heels tapping on the floor echoed through the quiet living room. I stayed seated on the sofa, not moving to greet her like I usually did, nor offering her any hangover tea or a warm towel.
Francine stumbled slightly, clearly not used to my cold indifference. Her brow furrowed, and there was a hint of frustration in her voice.
"What's wrong with you? You know I'm drunk, and you can't even help me?"
I didn't answer, just silently watched her. Her makeup was still flawless, but the smell of smoke and alcohol clung to her body and hair.
And then, there was the cologne, the unmistakable scent of Evan's cologne—the one he always wore.
I couldn't help but think back to the past. I loved my wife with all my heart and cared for her deeply. I chased her for five long years before finally winning her heart.
Back then, her smile was pure, and her eyes were filled only with me.
For her, I gave up so much.