It’s fine. Very soon, he won’t have to pretend anymore. I’ll leave, and the stage will be all hers.
—
The next morning, I sat leisurely at the table, sipping hand-brewed black coffee and slowly enjoying a sandwich. For once, the house was quiet. Peaceful.
Arthur came storming down the stairs, irritation written all over his face. He had a wrinkled shirt in one hand and a suit in the other.
"What am I supposed to wear today? Why didn’t you iron anything or help coordinate like you usually do?"
I didn’t even look up. "You’ve always said you hate me touching your things."
"You—" He stopped short, visibly frustrated, but before he could respond, a sleepy voice chimed in.
"Mom, where’s my breakfast?" Abraham rubbed his eyes and looked at the empty plate on the table. His lower lip quivered.
I took another sip of coffee. "I used to wake up early every day to make you breakfast, but you always had something to complain about. From now on, you can ask your dad."
Abraham pouted, turned to his father, and said, "Buy me something. Give me money." Then he grabbed the cash and stormed off.
Arthur stood there, dumbfounded. Something about Lora felt... off lately. Different. But he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
He shook his head and buried the thought. He had more important things to do—like seeing Loren.
When we arrived at the venue, Loren was already there. Her light yellow dress made her stand out like a spotlight in the crowd.
The moment Arthur saw her, his previously cold expression softened noticeably. From the moment we walked in, I could feel his gaze glued to her—he didn’t even bother hiding it.
“Sister!” Loren beamed and ran over. “I’m so happy to see you here!”
She leaned in and kissed Arthur lightly on the cheek. His ears flushed red on contact.
Then she reached out to touch me.
I blocked her with the file in my hand. “No need.”
Her smile froze midair, her eyes welling up, but she quickly straightened, forcing a brave little grin. “When I’m fully recovered, maybe you won’t hate me so much. I’ll do everything I can—”
Arthur’s face darkened slightly. His eyes finally shifted to me—not with concern, but with irritation.
I didn’t have time for this performance. My focus was on the upcoming partnership meeting. But Loren giggled softly and playfully tapped Arthur’s chest with both hands.