I sat in silence in the living room. Ten minutes later, she came out, and her expression had softened compared to when she was talking to me. When she caught me watching her, she glared at me before hurrying into the bedroom.
This time, I didn’t follow her. Instead, my thoughts drifted back over the years we’d spent together.
I grew up as an orphan and never attended school.
I met Penelope after she finished high school and started working odd jobs. Her family wasn’t well-off. Her mother was sick, and her father was disabled, so they couldn’t afford to send her to college.
After a month of knowing her, I had already fallen for her. I worked up the courage to pursue her, and we got together. Since then, I'd been paying for her tuition and living expenses, using the savings I had built up after years of working. I even helped cover her mother’s medical bills.
Those early days were sweet. She was gentle and affectionate. People at work often envied me, saying I was lucky to have landed a college girl for a girlfriend, that our kids would have a brighter future because of her. I believed it too, so I cherished our relationship all the more.