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A Homecoming |
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Sue slid the key into the lock, twisting it with purposeful intent before
turning the knob. Outside, the rain poured in a relentless torrent,
battering the windows with its clamorous assault. A taxi backed out of the
driveway, retreating into the obscured depths of the road.
A profound sense of gratitude washed over her as she stepped into her home.
Had she delayed her departure by merely an hour, she would have found
herself ensnared by the floods. In the heart of such a tempest, the river
would surely have swelled beyond its banks, submerging the bridge entirely.
There was no other route to access the estate.
The dwelling stood shrouded in darkness, devoid of even the faintest glimmer
of light. Kit was evidently absent. As she flicked on the lights,
disappointment tightened its grip around her heart. Throughout the entire
train journey, she had envisioned her arrival to a warmly lit haven, with
Kit settled comfortably by the television, engrossed in his newspaper. She
had imagined his handsome face brightening at the sight of her unexpected
return, his hands encircling hers as he planted a tender kiss upon her lips.
In her dreams, they would have prepared a light supper, sharing stories and
laughter, recounting the events of the past month.
Yet, Kit was nowhere to be found. Her gaze fell upon the clock atop the
television, revealing that it was nearly eleven. Perhaps he had been
summoned to a function at the club. Even before her departure to her
sister's abode, he often spent his evenings there, returning only in the
early hours of the morning.
The rain continued to cascade violently outside, the rubber trees thrashing
in the storm while the wind howled around the garage. She flicked on every
light in the house. Despite the month that had passed, the place remained
largely unchanged, save for a delicate vase of flowers gracing the dining
table. It seemed improbable that Kit had arranged it; perhaps the gardener
had gathered the daisies.
Venturing into the kitchen to prepare herself a cup of coffee, she found the
modest space imbued with a welcoming ambiance. Just as she reached for the
coffee, her eyes were drawn to a stain on the side of the cup. Despite her
frequent admonitions, the servant's negligence was ever-present. Inspecting
the cup closely, she noticed a smudge of lipstick—definitely not her own.
The combination of the rain and this unsettling discovery began to
overshadow the joy of returning home. Could it be the handiwork of her
mother-in-law?
Settling down on the sofa, she sought comfort in its familiar embrace.
Suddenly, the sound of a door slamming echoed through the house, followed by
hurried, resounding footsteps. A key turned in the lock, and the door swung
open to reveal Kit, flanked by the servant, who clung to his arm. |
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