"She was just reporting to me!" Patrick explained, stepping closer. "You know how young she is—she doesn’t know proper boundaries, so she stood a bit too close."
He gently placed his hand on my shoulder and continued in a soft voice.
“Wife, it’s been ages since we visited our alma mater. I happen to have some free time tomorrow—why don’t we go back and relive those memories from the past?”
He seemed more at ease as he brought up our alma mater, his mood noticeably lighter.
We were a couple who transitioned from school uniforms to wedding attire, and visiting our alma mater on our wedding anniversary had become a tradition. But this year, Patrick claimed work at the company was too hectic, so we didn’t go.
Thinking back now, he was probably preoccupied with his 18-year-old assistant.
I sighed softly and shook my head. “Let’s talk about it another time. The doctor prescribed me ten days of Western medicine, and I must boil it daily.”
He hummed in acknowledgment, reaching out to gently stroke my long hair.
I turned my head slightly, avoiding his touch without making it obvious. His hand froze mid-motion.
“Lora, is something bothering you? Why do I feel like you’re unhappy? Is it because Christy Barrett seemed too close to me while reporting her work earlier today?”
“She’s just a kid, barely 18. Surely you wouldn’t take it to heart, right?”
My chest tightened at his words. Once, I too had been an 18-year-old girl.
When I looked up again, my eyes were steady and calm. “No, I didn’t take it to heart.”
His expression softened as he murmured gently.
"That’s right! There’s a jewelry auction next week. I’ll buy you anything you like."
Just an hour earlier, I had seen Christy’s updated Moments, "Uncle said he’s taking me to the auction next week to check it out. He even promised to snap a photo of the final piece and give it to me! I love my uncle so much"
The post was accompanied by a photo of the two of them making a heart gesture. The wedding ring on Patrick’s finger stood out like a glaring beacon.
I glanced at him coldly. "No need. Save the photo for someone else."
Patrick’s expression stiffened, his gaze lowering. Just as he was about to speak, his phone buzzed.
A message from Christy popped up—nothing but a photo of a bed covered with an assortment of adult toys.
He stared at the screen, his Adam’s apple moving involuntarily.