Chapter37

A man looking disheveled was in the Kaufman's villa.

He sat on the floor barefoot, surrounded by empty wine bottles.

Antonio had locked himself at home since that day, refusing to either eat or drink.

He used to be a clean freak, paying great attention to his appearance all the time. Yet now his eyes were bloodshot, and he looked haggard and pitiful.

Clutching the pocket watch, he murmured, "Grace...

"I know you always hate it when I drink...

"Come back. Come back so that you can scold me in my face, OK?"

When saying this, he pressed his cheek against her face in their wedding photo, trying to catch a trace of her scent and warmth.

After some time, he suddenly woke up with a start and looked around, confused.

In the next second, he realized that everything was still in place, and Grace was still nowhere to be seen.

Once again, he was caught up in despair.

Just then, he felt a gust of wind, which brought some sounds

Chapter37

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heart skipped a beat; he tensed and held his breath

listen.

He got up at

a familiar figure in the kitchen with an

even dare to breathe lest

cautiously whispered, his voice trembling,

The figure paused.

she turned around, and he saw

awake. I'm making some soup for you;

It wasn't her.

It wasn't Grace.

eyes dimmed

agony, feeling dizzy. He

at him,

he had become so gaunt, and

he were

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pleading sadly, "Antonio,

it's a lot for you to take, and it's been so hard. But no matter what, you gotta move

"Piss off."

bit her lip

I won't leave, Antonio.

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