Guessed The Truth____________
Endless debates took place, with no accord to show for it. For days, Frank had combed through every conceivable medical solution for congenital uterine abnormalities, but Brandon met each with rejection.
As night fell, Brandon made his way back to the house.
The gentle glow of the garden lights blanketed everything in a comforting warmth, a sensation that always washed over him as he returned home. The day's trials faded into the background, replaced by a welcoming serenity.
As customary, he shook off his unease, reaching for the door.
Inside, Janet had settled into the living room. Hearing the front door open, she glanced up, eyes meeting Brandon's.
"Made it home?" Standing, she approached him, accepting his coat and briefcase with ease. "You're late today. I've had the housekeeper warm your dinner; would you like some?"
Her words, tinged with concern, acted like a balm on Brandon's days' worth of frustration.
His tension eased as he took a seat next to Janet. "No need, I've grabbed dinner. How's the studio faring?"
Janet answered, smiling, "No trouble now. In this era of rapid-fire news, the online crowd's gaze quickly shifts. Those misguided by the rumor spreaders have long since dismissed my studio. Given time, the loyal ones who appreciate and support me will return."
Cradling her close, Brandon murmured, "I regret what you've had to endure."
"But you've faced hardships too." Janet nestled into his strong, comforting presence.
She had a litany of questions poised for Brandon, yet witnessing his exhaustion, she lost the nerve.
She shelved them for later.
With an inward sigh, Janet gently nudged Brandon. "I've asked the help to prepare a bath. Could that help you unwind?"
Brandon's brows furrowed in surprise.
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