Chapter 2

My fever was gone the next day, but my throat was still hoarse.

I leaned against the headboard and picked up my phone. It turned out my mom had sent me a voice message last night.

I tapped it and listened.

"Eason isn't coming home with you? Is he busy? That's okay. It's not a bad thing to be busy. Maybe you two can find some time to visit next time. I'm not in a hurry."

She paused several times as she spoke, but her voice lifted at the end as if she were trying to sound cheerful.

I stared at the chat for a long time before scrolling up.

She had sent several pictures, including some selfies she had taken in front of the mirror.

She rarely bought clothes for herself, but this time, because she was going to meet her son-in-law, she had bought four new outfits and sent pictures of all of them to me.

She had also taken several close-up pictures of the dishes she had made. Eason had mentioned on the phone that he liked pot roast, so she had been making it for several days in a row.

"I keep getting better at it. He's going to love it."

I could hear the smile in her voice when she said it.

I pressed my lips together and played today's voice message again.

In the end, I only replied, "He's been a little busy lately."

When I walked out of the bedroom, Eason was already gone.

The bag on the table had been taken away, and the medicine had been laid out.

Beside it was a bun and a glass of milk.

As I walked closer, I happened to notice a crumpled shopping receipt sitting on top of the trash.

There was a note on the table that said. "Remember to eat breakfast."

It had been a long time since he had bought breakfast for me.

Ever since he had been connected to that system, he seemed to think that meeting my needs was a waste of time.

But now, he had done it again.

I reached out and touched the food. It was already completely cold.

I put it in the microwave to heat it up, but I still found it hard to swallow.

I frowned and forced myself to finish it while standing there.

When I drove to work and parked, I saw Queenie getting out of the passenger seat of Eason's car. She was holding a breakfast bag, but it was so hot that she kept switching it from one hand to the other. She also blew on her hands to cool them down.

After locking the car, Eason walked beside her, but neither of them looked my way.

When the elevator doors opened, they walked in together.

I stayed busy with work all morning, but around lunchtime, I ran into Queenie in the hallway.

She seemed to have been waiting for me. She walked over with a bright smile, grabbed my arm, and asked, "Wendy, Mr. Caldwell asked me to pick out a gift for an older family member, but I'm not very good at choosing things. Can you help me take a look?"

She handed me her phone. The screen showed her chat with Eason.

She had saved Eason's contact as "Boss" with a blowing-kiss emoji after it.

I said nothing.

She scrolled up and showed me the messages one by one.

Under several screenshots of shopping pages, she had asked Eason questions like, "Would this be good for Wendy's dad?" and "Does her mom like red or teal?"

Eason had replied casually with things like, "Okay," "Sure," or "You decide."

I glanced at the prices and realized that all of those gifts together cost less than the amount on the receipt in the trash.

When she scrolled to the top, her finger slowed down.

Eason had sent one message. "Just buy anything. Older people don't need anything too expensive."

Queenie's finger stopped. Then she pretended she had only just realized that I had seen it and said awkwardly, "Mr. Caldwell just wants to save money for the family. It's not easy for him to make money, after all."

I looked at her face. She was forcing a smile.

"He really does have it hard. So don't buy the gift," I said.

Queenie froze.

I walked around her and kept going.

When I got home after work that evening, Eason was sitting on the couch in the living room. His phone was resting on his knee, and the screen had just gone dark.

He asked, "Did you give Queenie a hard time today?"

My hands stopped as I took off my shoes. I looked at him from across the living room.

"Did she tell you that?"

"She said you told her not to buy the gift. She took her time picking it out, and you told her not to buy it. Don't you think that's kind of throwing her kindness back in her face?"

He sighed. "I really don't understand why you have to be like this."