Kent got the chills and didn't dare to say another word, quickly making his exit.
Having been by Brandon's side for years, he had never seen him with such intense emotional swings.
Brandon watched the office door close, chucked his phone on the desk, pulled over a chair to sit down, grabbed the mouse to wake up the computer, gave it a quick glance, then looked away.
Work was the last thing on his mind.
He shoved the mouse aside, leaned over to power down the computer completely, shut it off, left the building, and drove straight home.
He returned to the home he shared with Sophia after they got married.
It was a property he had bought for himself, where he lived solo before tying the knot and eventually turned into their cozy nest for two.
Located in a residential area in the city center, the house boasted a fantastic river view and was conveniently close to his office.
Brandon owned several properties, but this one was his favorite.
He enjoyed his solitude. Before getting hitched, living alone never bothered him; in fact, he relished the peace it brought. It wasn't until he and Sophia got hitched and she moved in, on his suggestion, that the place began to feel lived-in.
Sophia, like him, wasn't keen on outsiders intruding on their space, so aside from the cleaning crew that came by for regular maintenance, they didn't have a live-in maid.
Sophia had a knack for design, and when she still lived there, Brandon could see her clever touches all over the place. But when she left, she reset everything back to how it was when she first arrived.
Brandon wasn't sure whether to praise Sophia for her ability to flip things around easily, restoring the renovated place back to its original state, or to commend her foresight for knowing that things between them wouldn't last, so she only made changes that were easily reversible.
Or maybe, she just never planned on sticking around for the long haul.
His dark eyes grew colder at that thought.
Brandon swung open the liquor cabinet, glanced at the array of fine spirits, and randomly grabbed a bottle. He picked up the bottle opener, pried off the cap, which went flying, but he didn't care. He took a swig straight from the bottle, then slammed it down on the dining table.
With an expressionless face, he turned his head away.
Just then, the doorbell rang.
Brandon glanced at the door, silent for a moment, then stood up to answer it.
"What took you so long? I thought you weren't home."
The door barely opened when Yvonne Crawley's grumbling came through, along with a toddler's "eeh-ahh" sounds.
Brandon gave her a look. "What brings you over?"
His words dripped with annoyance, but his hands reached out for the two-year-old she was carrying.
Yvonne was Brandon's sister, two years his junior, but they didn't share the same mother.
She was Patricia's biological daughter, while Brandon was not.
Perhaps because they had different mothers, even though they both inherited their father's good looks and their mothers' beauty, they didn't quite share the same brainpower.
Yvonne was the classic beautiful airhead, not the sharpest tool in the shed, simple and easily fooled, with a head full of romantic mush.
She had gotten married a few years back and had a daughter, affectionately called Anna Crawley.
Little Anna was just two, taking after Yvonne with those stunning good looks, but seemingly inheriting her mom's airheadedness, coming off as a bit slow and not the brightest.
Anna adored Brandon, and seeing him extend his hands, she happily reached out, leaning toward him. "Hug."
Her speech was still developing, barely managing single-syllable words.
Yvonne pinched her little face. "Forget momma when you see your uncle, huh?"
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I really love it. More chapter please. Thank you...