When I thought of Troy, my first impression was his impatience. Always justifying his secretary's behavior and scolding me relentlessly.
Sensing something was off, I moved to the floor-to-ceiling window. In the pouring rain, his car was still parked downstairs.
Even though visibility was poor, I could clearly make out the two figures inside, embracing and kissing passionately. Troy, I truly misjudged you.
Troy returned that evening. He didn't work overtime, by six, he was home. His coat, drenched by the rain, was tossed directly into the washing machine as soon as he entered.
He glanced at me painting in the study, a faint smile playing on his lips as he quietly approached me from behind, intending to kiss me. I dodged him again.
"Felicia, why do I feel like you've been avoiding me these past few days?" His gaze shifted to my belly and asked, "Has the baby been behaving? You haven't seemed to have much morning sickness lately."
Of course, there was no more morning sickness. Because the baby was long gone.
I let out a cold laugh, only to catch sight of a vivid red mark on his neck, immediately wiping the smile off my face.