The soup Gianna brought over was spilled on the lobby floor.

Lowering his head, he looked at it for a while before he picked up the soup container and tossed it into the trash can by the door.

He didn’t need a woman to take pity on him.

After that, he kept drinking himself into a stupor. He’d call out to Gwynn once he woke up from it. Sometimes, he’d even dream about the moment when they met each other for the first time.

This time, however, he woke up from his drunken stupor and saw Emma.

She was wiping sweat from his forehead. Her head was lowered and she spoke softly, as she usually did. “You kept calling out to ‘Gwynn,’ Mr. Noah. Is she someone you love?”

For a minute there, he wasn’t completely sobered up.

After a brief moment, he said in a husky voice, “She’s my wife.”

She got bold and asked, “Why don’t you go home, then?”

He looked dazed when he heard the question.

After a while, he pulled out a cigarette from his front pocket, lit it up, and smoked it leisurely.