Sam

I inquired about the current situation at the company, and Sam provided a watertight account, frequently glancing at George. It was clear to me that Sam was no longer the person he had been when I was at the company.

Indeed, people lose interest once you're gone, which wasn't surprising since George was now his boss. In his eyes, I was just a former boss, and it's not wrong to be loyal to one's current master.

I felt a sense of desolation. Monica's words seemed true; I had been replaced, at least at ElevateBuild, where I was now a thing of the past. Being respectfully addressed as the boss's wife was just a courtesy.

I wondered if the day would come when George and I would part ways, and these people would likely not even acknowledge me. If George could be so ungrateful, who would remember the former haggard wife who nearly bled herself dry for ElevateBuild?

It's quite tragic, really. I suffer from gallstones because of the stress from back then, but that's all in the past now. The hard work is just lip service, especially when coming from George. The pain is mine alone to bear.

The world is indeed cold.

My resolve was strengthening. One must plan for oneself; heaven and earth will not. I needed to secure my future.

Just in case.

The thought brought a fresh pang of pain to my heart, and my nose tingled with the onset of tears.

Could George really be so heartless? I found this hard to believe. I still held onto some fantasy for the hard times we had gone through together. Regardless of the credit, I just wanted him to remember the hard work.

I'd like to believe he isn't that heartless.

The dishes began to arrive, and Sam tactfully left.

During the meal, George's phone kept ringing with business calls, but there was one call he took outside after glancing at me. His behavior immediately put me on edge.

Pretending to go to the restroom, I left the private room and saw George in the hallway on the phone, nodding and humming affirmatively. It was eerily reminiscent of a few days ago when he had video called me in a restaurant corridor.

Noticing me, he quickly ended the call with, "...right, let's leave it at that! The quality must be good! The materials aren't an issue! You decide!"

I passed by him and headed to the restroom, pondering why he had to take that call outside. It sounded like business, but what was the need for secrecy?

As I washed my hands, George followed me in and volunteered, "It's about a client's material usage."

"Isn't that Sam's responsibility? Why are they calling you directly?" I asked nonchalantly, drying my hands with a paper towel while glancing at his reflection in the mirror.

"Oh... it's an old client, their own home renovation," George replied evasively.

"Oh, I need to use the restroom. You go back and keep an eye on Angel," I said, partly because I didn't want Fiona to be alone with Angel, in case she took the opportunity to mistreat her.

George pulled me close for a kiss before returning to the private room.

I forced a bitter smile and went into the restroom.

Before I could finish and come out, I heard footsteps from outside coming in—two more people seemed to have entered...

The sounds were strange, like a mix of scuffling and... something else.

As I was about to push open the stall door to leave, I heard a man's voice, "Gotcha now, you little thing, I've missed you to death!"

I was taken aback; that voice unmistakably belonged to Sam. I quickly withdrew my hand from the door.

I hadn't realized Sam was so bold. His wife was a rather nice girl, and here he was sneaking around. It seemed there might be no good men left.

"You cut that out. You miss me? Don't you have a new sweetheart?" a woman's voice replied with a sour tone. "Look at you, so warm at the door. Why aren't you that warm with me? And you say I'm important to you? Nonsense, I can't tell at all, you're all talk!"

"You're the one who's great at flirting..." Sam's voice trailed off, followed by rustling sounds.

"Be good, let me give you a kiss... I've been..." Sam's words were bold, and I felt my face heat up at the audacity, "That was my boss earlier; do you think I wouldn't try to please him? He's my meal ticket. How else would I have money to spoil you?"

"Your boss is really handsome, way better than you—ah... what are you in such a hurry for? Someone might come in... ah!" The woman's coquettish complaints made it clear they were up to no good.