"Hmm. Someone snuck into the security room and introduced a virus into the internal network through the surveillance system." Roseanne: "Who could it be?"

Owen: "The person was masked. Couldn't make out their face, but it's someone from inside Kingswell University for sure." Roseanne pursed her lips.

"We can't let them get away with this. It's a virus this time, who knows what it will be next."

Holding his smartphone, Owen let out a low chuckle.

The IT guy next to him looked puzzled. What's so funny?

That sudden laughter was kind of spooky...

Owen replied, "Alright, I'll follow your lead."

Roseanne smiled, put down her phone, and stood up to head for a shower.

...

The headache from his hangover made Murray gasp for air.

He sat up and glanced outside. It was still dark. He had slept through an entire day and night.

His stomach started to ache again. He skillfully grabbed the antacid from the nightstand and washed it down with the now cold water.

The chilly liquid passing through his esophagus into his stomach gave him a jolt.

"Though meds help, they're not to be overused, they say. Still, nothing beats a good diet. Come on, get up and have this bowl of ginger chicken soup I made..." "Too sweet for you? I'll cut back on the carrots next time..."

"Can you drink less tonight? I've been nurturing your stomach with soups and broths for weeks now. This drinking just undoes all that effort..."

"Murray, please, can you not drink so much? I'm worried about your health..."

"If you come home drunk like this again, I'm really going to be upset!"

"Tonight, it's beef and barley soup. You have to finish it, or else I-Mmph! Why do you always do this when I ask you to have soup, blocking my mouth won't work... Mmm!" "Murray, I'm really upset now. Kissing me won't help!"

"Stop drinking."

"Murray, I don't like you when you're drunk."

"The soup is in the pot. I'm tired, going to bed now."

...

Scenes of his life with Roseanne kept flashing through Murray's mind.

She had always been against his drinking.

At first, she'd fuss over him like a grandmother, but she'd always end up dishing out a hot, soothing bowl of soup.

When he was in a good mood, he enjoyed her care and found creative ways to make her stop talking.

But on bad days, when work was stressful and Roseanne kept nagging, he would get irritated.

Irritation led to anger, and more often than not, they would end up having a big fight.

Gradually, she nagged less.

Whenever he came home from social gatherings, he would replace her waiting on the couch, with a bowl of hot soup ready for him.

Murray thought she had become more understanding, even feeling a bit proud internally.

What man doesn't socialize?

Socializing without drinking is like going to a party and only drinking soda.

If you don't drink, others will, and it's not about alcohol tolerance, but about saving face.

But now, thinking back, Roseanne wasn't becoming more understanding; she was just disappointed and tired of talking.

Looking at the empty antacid boxes

in his drawer, Murray realized it had

been ages since he last had one of Roseanne's stomach-nurturing soups.

One day, two days... Three months, six months...All he knew was that he missed her, painfully, desperately!

Suddenly, the door gently opened from the outside, and Millie walked in with a tray.

Seeing him awake, she smiled slightly. "Murray, you've been asleep for a day. Are you hungry? I made some soup for you and prepared a few light appetizers to whet your appetite..." en Ebookex.com

As she approached the bed, ready to set down the tray.

Murray snapped, "Who let you in?"

Millie froze. "I...I was just worried about you..."

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