I found the very thought of returning to Adrian was somehow revolting. That was why I stayed in the office preparing documents until late.

"My colleague had something urgent coming up and had to switch shifts with me. Takeout's probably your best bet tonight," I said, casually found an excuse.

"Takeout?" Adrian sounded surprised.

Back then, eating out was not even an option for us. I practically catered to every meal, three times a day.

"Is there anything wrong?" I asked him.

"No." Adrian hesitated before continuing, "Just take care of yourself and don't get too tired."

"Thank you," I replied flatly.

Adrian was silent for a while, then asked again, "Madeline, are you angry?"

The question, so slow to come, sparked a flicker of something akin to anger. But mostly, it was a disappointment. Was he truly this oblivious, or simply did not care about my feelings? However, it did not matter. I would not be angry anymore.

Part 3

In an apologetic tone, Adrian took the initiative to explain, "Madeline, it's not easy for Sophie to raise a child alone. She doesn't know anyone else here. She only has me."

His words felt like a slap. He conveniently forgot sometimes that, I too, only had him.

"Of course, I understand. She must've been through a lot," I answered calmly.

"Madeline, what's that supposed to mean? What's your attitude?" He lost his temper all of a sudden.

"I said I understand," I repeated, my voice losing its lightness, "Is that a problem?"

"Do you have to talk to me like that?" he snapped.

"Then what do you want me to say?" I countered, frustration creeping in.

Silence fell between us, heavy and suffocating. Finally, he mumbled a defeated, "Do as you wish," before hanging up.

Wasn't it ironic? He once said I was annoying when I questioned him visiting Sophie. And when I called him to ask when he would be back from Sophies's, I was also the annoying one. Now, even trying to understand him earned me his frustration.

With a sigh, I tossed my phone aside. Dwelling on it would not change anything. There was more important thing to do, like a stack of documents in front of me.

The night shift ended and I deliberately lingered after cleaning up my desk. The thought of returning home, held no appeal.