"Don't leave."

Turning, Cecilia met his profound gaze. He appeared composed, betraying no sign of the considerable effort he'd exerted to halt her departure.

After an intense, wordless standoff, Cecilia whispered, "Release me."

Complying, Mark eased his grip.

She alighted from the vehicle hastily, as though pursued.

Once the car door shut, Mark gingerly placed a hand over his abdomen.

He remained still for a moment before retrieving a pill from his pocket and downing it with water.

He delayed his return to the company until his discomfort subsided.

Peter, sensing Mark's sour mood, refrained from any provocations. As his workday concluded, he approached Mark, suggesting, "It's time to fetch Edwin. He'd be thrilled if you did."

The mention of Edwin lightened Mark's spirits.

Upon collecting Edwin, the young boy, schoolbag in tow, bounded from the car where Zoey awaited.

"You're all sweaty, boy. Go freshen up. I've made ice cream for you," she directed.

Edwin, cheeks flushed, complied, washing up before settling down with his treat.

Zoey fanned Edwin, her keen eyes flickering between the father and son.

Mark was off; she could tell.

Disheveled, he discarded his coat onto the sofa, seemingly devoid of energy.

Mimicking Mark's tone, Zoey gestured near her ear, “Oh, someone phoned me last night, claiming he wouldn't return home... Needed to "take care' of Cecilia, he said. Worried I'd fuss over a drunken Cecilia showing up here."

Edwin nearly choked on his ice cream.

Peter, just entering, was seized by laughter.

Zoey shot her son a sardonic glance.