Samuel Johnson arrived home just when the cook had finished preparing dinner. Mrs. Johnson had returned from shopping today, and large and small bags were piled up on the sofa, while Amanda Smith sat cross-legged not far away, watching television. The setting sun cast slanted beams into the house, coating half the hall in golden light, and the aroma of the dishes wafted out, giving the entire villa a sense of tranquility and warmth.
Upon seeing Amanda, Samuel's face broke into a smile—a smile that truly reflected his fondness for someone. He walked over and wrapped an arm around Amanda's shoulders. She glanced up at him, then turned back to continue watching television.
Habit is a terrifying thing; in just three months, her reaction to his touch had shifted from disgust and fear to indifference.
By the time Amanda finished an episode, the cook had readied the meal and called them to eat.
