Never

Linda took a sip of milk, leaving a small milk mustache on her upper lip.

William reached for a napkin and gently wiped it off for her.

Linda’s heart sank. Memories of their days living together in their apartment rushed back.

She used to wipe his mouth like that once, but he had turned away abruptly and told her it made him feel sick. She never tried again after that.

“William, don’t you think this is pointless?” Linda felt helpless.

“No, not at all. I’m more than happy to spend my time with my wife,” William replied, unfazed.

“Mr. Wilson, I’m not your wife,” Linda retorted.

“That’s only a matter of time. I believe you’ll come back to me,” William said confidently.

“That’s impossible. It will never happen,” Linda said firmly.

She grabbed her bag and stood up. As she walked away, William followed her without hesitation.

As they stepped into the elevator, she didn’t bother to speak. If he enjoyed following her, so be it.

“Mr. Wilson, when did you start enjoying being a bodyguard?”

“I don’t, but I love being close to my wife.”

Linda fell silent again. She was completely at a loss for how to communicate with him.

When she got into a cab, William followed suit. Linda told the driver, “To Sycamore Lane, please.”

“Sure thing,” the driver responded. Glancing at the good–looking pair in the back seat, the driver couldn’t help but ask, “Are you two on your honeymoon?”

“No, I’m still trying to win her heart,” William answered before Linda’could respond.

The driver gave William a significant glance. “Best of luck, young man.

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

Linda simply closed her eyes.

When they arrived at Sycamore Lane, William paid double the fare and trailed behind Linda.

Zack’s house was located in this area of Aventis. The place was full of historical charm, with the air thick.

with the marks of time:

Linda searched for the house number using the picture Martin had sent her. The house numbers were so

worn out that they were almost unreadable. Linda had trouble finding it. Content (C) Nôv/elDra/ma.Org.

“What’s the number?” William asked.

568, Linda replied, squinting at the numbers.

William took her hand and led her straight to the back, turning at the corner. He pointed to the house

number above. “Here.”

“How did you know it was here?” Linda asked, confused.

“My grandparents were from Aventis. They lived in the villa area just behind here.”

Linda finally understood. She blurted out, “This is the first time you’ve mentioned your family to me.”

William paused and said, “I’ll tell you anything you want to know from now on.

Linda knocked on the door and replied, “That’s alright. I’m not all that curious.

A middle–aged woman opened the door. She looked at the two of them and asked, “Hello, who are you looking for?”

“Hi, I’m here to see Zack Xander. Is this his home?” Linda asked.

The woman nodded in response. “Yes, it is. And you are?”

“I’m Linda Felix, John’s daughter. Just let him know Linda’s here, and he’ll understand.”

The woman went in, and shortly later, a man in his middle years came out. It was Zack. He was astonished to see Linda and took a moment to compose himself. “Linda, you’re still alive?”