The water stains on the coffee table reflected the crystal lamp on the ceiling, which stung my eyes.
I knelt on the floor and twisted the rag in my hand three times, but Su Qing didn't ask me to get up yet. She was sitting on the sofa opposite, with her legs crossed, the red wine in her hand swaying slightly, but her eyes were always on the screen of her mobile phone, not even bothering to look at me.
"Qin Luo, you are blocking the TV."
Her tone was flat, as if she were talking to a dog blocking the road.
I moved to the side and continued to wipe the reflective glass coffee table that had been clean for a long time. After three years of marriage, I have long been accustomed to this kind of life. Get up early every day to prepare breakfast for her, wait for her to come back at night to clean up the mess, and occasionally kneel on the ground as a breathing decoration like now.
The doorbell rang.
Su Qing put down her wine glass, stood up and opened the door. I heard her put on the accent of a strong working woman: "Mr. Lu, please come in."
Lu Ziqian.
