The white collar of his shirt had a lipstick mark.
As I stared, some old memories came flooding back. It was the first time I saw something like this. I had fought him and eventually involved both our parents.
Pulling my gaze away, I said, "Go take a shower."
He glanced at me with unfocused eyes and stumbled toward the bathroom. The housekeeper tried to say something, but I sent her away. "It's late. You can go rest now."
When Derrick came out of the bathroom, I was already lying down. His hand brushed against me, but I gently moved it away.
"You're tired. Just sleep," I muttered.
...
I woke up early the next morning, picking out a casual T-shirt, a denim skirt, and white sneakers. I tied my hair into a bun and did my makeup.
In the mirror, I looked like an energetic young girl with fair skin, a slender figure, and bright eyes.
Derrick, on the other hand, was still recovering from a hangover. His eyes were bloodshot, with dark circles underneath.
Luckily, his features were de
