He slowly ascended the stairs. Edwin trailed behind, but he felt his sleeve being gently tugged.
In hushed tones, Cecilia murmured, “Your father appears quite upset.
It might be wise not to confront him directly.”
Edwin offered a comforting pat on his mother’s hand before proceeding upstairs.
Upstairs in the second-floor study, Mark was seated on the sofa, his expression bearing a solemn weight.
Edwin entered the room silently, brewing a cup of tea, and then approached his father, offering a gentle remedy.
“Dad, perhaps this will help sober you up.”
Mark chuckled lightly, remarking, “I haven’t drunk that much.”
He ignited a cigarette and took a deep drag.
“Let’s talk about you. Lina seemed rather peculiar in her behavior toward you today,” he observed.
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“Did you perhaps unintentionally offend her? And why did you choose to offer Peter and Lina a ride rather than your girlfriend?” he inquired.
While he spoke, Mark couldn’t contain his frustration and forcefully knocked over the ashtray nearby.
The shattering sound reverberated through the room.
Cecilia, alarmed by the noise from downstairs, grew concerned and approached the door, gently asking, “Mark, what’s the matter? Please talk it out calmly.”
Mark’s voice carried a hint of tension as he replied, “It’s nothing, don’t worry. Go get some rest.”
On serious matters, Cecilia found herself in a complex blend of fear and obedience towards her husband.
She complied and left.
Mark’s gaze shifted from the door to his son. Edwin, seemingly unruffled, was calmly tidying up the shattered pieces on the floor.
His nonchalance seemed to further aggravate his father’s frustration.
Mark let out a frustrated, almost bitter laugh, demanding, “Well, what do you have to say for yourself? You’re usually quite eloquent.
Cat got your tongue?”
Edwin cautiously steered away from the core issue, explaining, “Vanessa and I don’t share any romantic feelings.”
“Haha! Just business partners, right?”
Mark scoffed with a hint of sarcasm.