Light, prolonged
春分 [25] / [33]
He urgently examined the documents she handed in to him. Messages with each person, all of whom were arguably men, talked about something more than just romantic bullshit, but also vulgar jokes and sexual exchanges.
There were also call logs showing her communication with these men, almost all made after midnight, and payment details to Violet’s bank account: from $100~$500. He thought he knew what that number meant, with all these calls and message logs. He couldn’t believe it. He didn’t want to.
“I looked through Violet's testimony to you. On paper, she seems like an innocent angel who wanted to forgive her parents, who are regarded as unforgivable child abuse perpetrators in the public's eyes.”
Cynthia waited for him to say something, but he remained still.
She continued,
“I just want to let you know these facts before your relations with her get much deeper. Because you’re a coworker, and a friend.”
“I think she has her reasons. Consider the circumstances she grew up in, it was crazy, wasn't it? She will be fine with me. I want to trust her. I think I have to give her a chance.”
“Fine,”
she turned back.
“If you believe that people can change so easily, that is your decision.”
Alexander sighed. He opened his phone. There was a message from Violet.
<Honey, I’ve prepared a splendid dish for you tonight. I won’t tell you what the menu is. You will know when you get home>
He smiled. It wasn't with complete sweetness, though. There was some bitterness there along with it.
He knew all too well that playing with fire would almost certainly mean he would be burned sometime in the future, and she was like napalm. He should have known better. He should probably have listened to Cynthia.
More than that, he probably should've listened to his own instincts. He knew there was something off about her, but he chose to ignore it, because feelings have a way of blinding you to certain things.
He wanted to give her a chance, and he did. He gave her enough rope to hang herself with, as the expression goes, and he certainly did just that in spectacular fashion. But still . . . the early times were good while they lasted.
