We sit out on his back terrace, enjoying the perfect, early June weather, and his wife, Cynthia, brings out a tray of cocktails and joins us for one round. Cynthia is a sweet woman, beautiful and accomplished, a loving mother to their daughter, Sarah, and son, Robert, but I feel a little sad for her, knowing how little Bob cares for her. She’s dressed smartly, in a blouse and skirt, and her martinis are as perfect as their beautifully-appointed house. Everywhere are signs of Cynthia trying, and Bob not trying at all.After the first drink, she excuses herself, clearing the glasses and bringing two more martinis out for Bob and I before politely disappearing into the house.“She’s lovely,” I say to Bob—purposefully goading him, I think. Or at least trying to put in a word in her favour.“Hmm?” He refocuses his eyes on me. “Cynthia? Oh yeah, she’s great.” He’s blasé and indifferent.We talk about work, and his daughter’s upcoming wedding, and the other Cynthia, the one from the office.
ปรับปรุงล่าสุด : 2025-03-10 อ่านเพิ่มเติม