They came back.
Clara returned to our little home.
"Why is it so dark?" She murmured.
Because I was already dead, there was no one to leave a little lamp for her anymore.
She searched everywhere in the condo but couldn't find a trace of me.
Impatiently, she took out her phone and wanted to call me.
It had been many days since we last contacted. She scrolled for a long time before finding our chat box.
Looking at the chat history still stuck on the last call, she was stunned. She seldom contacted me during business trips, but I would share a lot of information with her on my own.
But now she couldn't see a single message.
The light from the screen illuminated her face, making her expression look a bit gloomy.
She was about to send me a voice message, but a dialogue box popped up.
Steve asked her out for a meal.
She agreed, and then hurriedly left.
Our home returned to silence.
Steve was waiting for her downstairs. She saw him and ran over.
"Clara, you live in such a place. How did the Chambers family become so shabby?"
When we got married, Clara said she liked a cozy little home, so we chose a regular two-bedroom condo in the city center close to her company.
I personally designed the decoration of our home, pouring my longing for a home into it.
Clara looked at Steve with a complicated expression, "In college, you once said that small-sized houses feel more like home."
Steve hesitated for a moment and immediately said, "I'm sorry. It has been too long and I forgot. I just subconsciously thought you deserved better."
Clara's expression softened a bit.
But I felt a pang of heartache.
I thought that she wanted an ordinary and common little home. Actually it was their wish. I was just a clown.
