The mobile phone on the desk vibrated once, then returned to silence.
William Guillen extended his long arm, grabbed the phone, and his fingertip opened the text message she sent.
His gaze lingered on that text message, unable to recover for a long time.
Eight years a dream...
The dream is gone...
He stared at this text message. In just two short sentences, it conveyed endless bitterness, a hint of letting go and a hint of pain.
Pain like scraping bones and removing flesh.
She must be very sad now, right?
Well...
This is good too...
After the sadness, she will understand that he is not worth her liking, much less her good husband for this lifetime.
He withdrew his gaze, tossed the phone on the tabletop, raised his hand, loosened his tie, unbuttoned two buttons on his shirt in one motion, took a deep breath, and exhaled a long breath of turbid air.
This is quite good; better to endure short pain than prolonged misery.
