After Norton and Sean left, Morrison was left alone in the empty office.
Outside, the city lights glimmered, cars rushed past in ceaseless streams, a cacophony of life that clashed violently with the silence surrounding him.
He couldn't help but drift back into memories of Lilian. She had always been easy to please—just being with him was enough. She never cared about extravagant locations or expensive meals.
Back then, because their relationship wasn't public, most of their dates took place in his office, and the meals… well, he cooked them himself. She claimed, cheerfully, that his cooking was better than any restaurant chef's.
Morrison wasn't sure if she was genuinely impressed or just saying it to make him happy. Sometimes, his efforts weren't perfect, but she never complained—she just smiled and ate. That simple joy, that effortless happiness, replayed in his mind like a bittersweet melody.
His thoughts were abruptly broken by the ringing of his phone.
