Frank Thornton carefully placed the sleeping child into the stroller.
He turned around and saw Rita Hart coming down the stairs, her concerned tone filled with reproach. "You haven't recovered yet. Go back to bed and rest."
Rita Hart ignored his words and walked up to him.
Their eyes met.
Rita Hart wrapped her arms around Frank Thornton's neck.
I saw his body stiffen for a moment.
"Do you still love me?"
Rita Hart's direct question left Frank Thornton momentarily stunned.
He looked at her expressionlessly, remaining silent.
The silence in the room made Rita Hart's face show a trace of unease, causing me to feel a bit anxious as well.
I wanted to fidget with my fingers, but as a soul, I could only drift around to mask my agitation.
"Frank, I haven't been able to forget you all these years."
"I miss you so much."
Tears welled up in Rita Hart's eyes, her soft voice sounding like a broken doll's.
Frank Thornton sighed helplessly, pulling her into his arms and gently wiping away her tears with his thumb.
"Rita, my patience has its limits."
Her face froze.
"But for you, I'll make an exception."
I paused, a sarcastic smile curling on my lips.
The worry in Rita Hart's eyes eased, and a barely noticeable smile appeared on her face.
Her eyes darted around mischievously as she casually asked, "You love me, but what about Sandra... What does she mean to you?"
Frank Thornton's lips tightened and he hesitated, pressing his thumb harder against her cheek, causing Rita Hart to wince.
Seeing no reaction from him, she pulled his neck down further and kissed him, bringing Frank Thornton, who had been lost in thought, back to reality.
Frank Thornton's body tensed, but only for a moment. Then he took control, deepening the kiss, his grip on her waist tightening as if he wanted to meld her into his body.
I couldn't help but tremble, my body cold. The feeling of nausea and disgust surged up my throat, but I forced it down.
Rita Hart was slightly out of breath, her eyes dreamy, her voice even more seductive. "Frank, I want you."
"Divorce her."
Frank Thornton stopped, his expression darkening, a chill emanating from him that even I, a soul impervious to temperature, felt the need to hug myself for warmth.
Yet, I couldn't understand his meaning. If we divorced, he could be openly with Rita Hart. Isn't that what he wanted?
Rita Hart's face turned pale. She leaned in for another kiss, but Frank Thornton held her back.
"Frank..."
The room was silent, and I almost heard the sound of my own heartbeat.
I floated above, watching Frank Thornton button Rita Hart's shirt, gently stroking her head as he restrained himself. "You haven't recovered yet."
"I haven't divorced Sandra."
I sneered. Turns out, Frank Thornton had thought of more than I did.
He didn't answer before because our marital status hindered him. Even now, he was considering Rita Hart's well-being.
First, she just had a baby and was physically fragile.
Second, we were still married. He worried that Rita Hart would be labeled a homewrecker. He wouldn't tolerate any harm coming to the person he cared for, nor would he allow her to face moral condemnation.
Rita Hart's frown eased, and she smiled sweetly, planting a kiss on his lips.
"Frank, when you divorce her, will you marry me?"