William moved with a quiet efficiency in the kitchen, his hands chopping and sauteing with a practiced ease. The aroma of sizzling meat and steaming vegetables filled the air, a savoury scent that wafted through the house, announcing the imminent arrival of dinner. As he finished plating the meal, he glanced up at the wall clock, his brow furrowing in concern. Dahlia was running late, and he couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that had been growing in his chest.
He picked up his phone from the table, his fingers dialing her number with a sense of trepidation. The phone rang for a few moments before Dahlia's voice answered, her tone teasing and playful.
"Miss me much?" she asked, her words dripping with a sly humor.
William's chuckle was a low, rumbling sound, a mixture of relief and amusement. "Where are you? It's late," he said, his eyes scanning the darkness outside, searching for any sign of her return.
