"Are you very tired today?" Serena Stanton held his hand and tucked it into the pocket of her cashmere coat, warming him up. "I'll drive later, you can take a good rest."
The streetlights cast a misty glow over the city, like a faint, gentle filter that made the whole world seem a little blurry—except for the woman's graceful silhouette, which seemed almost too clear against the hazy and quiet street.
Adrian stared at her long, curled eyelashes, tightening his grip on the hand she put in his pocket. "Married men all want their wives."
Serena's eyes flickered slightly. She tilted her face up to look at him. "That's not right, you know."
"How so?" Adrian said lazily.
"Not all married men miss their wives," Serena explained, giving an example. "Director Lewis from our law firm finds his wife at home annoying, all his thoughts are on his lover outside. He complains every day that his wife is a worn-out old woman, just looking at her pisses him off."
