Kevin Cliff drove the company car back to that place he never dared to enter—the home he had designed for her himself.
The hand typing the password was trembling.
With a beep, the unlocking sound came through, and his heart trembled along with it.
He knew that if she truly came back, she would definitely come here; he just knew it.
He closed his eyes and gently pushed the door open.
Indeed, there was no dust flying about, nor any odor of neglect; it was as if there was still a faint fragrance of flowers permeating his heart.
Kevin Cliff slowly opened his eyes, and at the same time, his hand reached for the switch and pressed it down...
The lights suddenly turned on, and the house was spotlessly clean, as if it had regained its master. The flowers in the vase on the table had dried up, and the tablecloth had been changed to a warm, pastoral style. Undoubtedly, the mistress had returned.
