After ending the call, Helen Melendy's eyes reddened as she looked at the glaring sunlight outside the window, her eyes suddenly stinging sharply.
"Harry Hall, damn it, I don't give a damn about you."
She reached up to wipe the tears that had fallen on her nose and went to the laundry room to find her clothes. Since Harry had changed out of her clothes, the ones from yesterday should have been stuffed into the washing machine by him.
She didn't find them in the washer, so she searched the dryer, still no sign of them.
Helen's anger caused her a physical ache, but she patiently went to the walk-in closet. When she pushed open the door of the closet, the sight inside stunned her.
The entire walk-in closet was just as it had been three years ago when she left this place, filled with her clothes hung up and neatly folded, untouched by anyone.
Why did he still keep her clothes, what was Harry trying to say?
Was he trying to prove he wasn't a scumbag in this way?
