After work hours, Allen Rivera came to the company to pick up Jane McCain as usual.
Today, he seemed to have worked overtime and arrived a bit late. It was already dark.
The night sky enveloped the heavens, and the spring stars were exceptionally bright and dazzling. Jane McCain sat in the car, looking at those stars through the window, feeling a tickle in her heart as if scratched by a cat, wanting to do something, with a hint of excitement.
At a red light, the car stopped, and she saw many pairs of young couples by the road, and vendors selling roses. Love was in the air everywhere; today was surely a good day.
"It's a bit late now. If we go for dinner, we'll probably have to wait for a table. How about we eat at home?" Allen Rivera said, "Shall I take you home first?"
Home?
What's the point of going home? Besides, I only have instant noodles at home.
