It wasn't my fault for overthinking. In a situation like this, it was rather worrisome that he didn't lose his mind, didn't feel heartbroken, and acted as if nothing had happened.

He concealed his emotions so well that it felt like he was pretending that Helen was still alive, and that life was still the same as it always was.

After the pasta was done, I was about to turn around to call him over, but I surprisingly saw him resting on the doorframe with his hands crossed in front of his chest. His face was cold.

I broke out in a cold sweat and asked, "Irvin, what's wrong?"

He looked away and asked emotionlessly, "Is the pasta ready?"

I nodded, fear lingering in my heart. I placed the plates of pasta on the dining table.

As I watched him eat, I could not help but ask, "Irvin, are you alright?"

He stopped to look at me. His eyes were cold and indifferent as he asked, "What?"

I shook my head. I felt that he had suddenly grown distant and cold. "Eat. The pasta won't taste as good cold."

He narrowed his eyes and looked at me. "Aren't you hungry?"

shook my head. "I'm not.

lips and said no

way he chewed

stared at the black TV screen. His gaze was deep

father's passing. His eyes too, were like

to start a conversation with him. "Irvin, life is but a series of moving-on. She did hope for you to

his eyes slightly, looked at me, and said in a harsh whisper. "Are

a moment, I couldn't

late and you should rest. I'll come over tomorrow with

him, so I could only

a little

was caught off guard by that and instinctively shook

then took my

returned to the villa, it was

was tall and slender, handsome even. Under the dim streetlights, his face, which looked a

face dark when he asked, "Do you intend to stand out here

he walked down the steps, the rain fell on

my lips and thought for a moment. "Didn't you say you would come home late?" I had thought that he wouldn't even be coming home tonight from what he told me. After all,

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