...
It was eleven o'clock at night, and Yves King, much akin to a thief, quietly returned home. Noticing the house to be devoid of any soul, he emitted a sigh of relief, but a pang of melancholy struck him, leaving him in silent bitter laughter.
He remembered, after the conversation with Faye Owen, their bond was virtually terminated. Even though they hadn't officially divorced at the civil affairs bureau, it was merely a formality. Faye Owen made it clear that all she wanted him to do now was to keep this from their parents. To avoid any disturbance and unnecessary upheaval during such a critical time.
