Richard's POV
The ringing doorbell persists, forcing me to grab my crutches and trot towards the door with a hardened expression.
I am not expecting anyone. And this is really not a good time for any visit.
This is a pure inconvenience.
Ever since I have been on crutches, I have been super lazy. The fact that I had to use the damn sticks every single time messes with my head. Even when I want to take a bath, I have to go in there with them.
When the bell rings again as I get closer, I pull the door open aggressively, intending to ask whoever is at the door what he or she is looking for.
No one knows me around here.
So I'm sure it must be the neighbor from across. Our condos are opposite each other.
However, it isn't anyone I don't know.
The person at the door is the least anticipated.
Arabel.
Her face does not register any kind of emotion I am expecting. No hurt. No smiles. No indignation.
“Hi,” she says lightly, holding up a package.
“Arabel?” I can't hide my surprise. The mere fact
