I couldn't believe my eyes, but the handwriting was undeniably his. The last time I had dinner with him, he left his signature on the three-hundred-million loan contract, and it's exactly the same with this one.
Oh my God… Countless questions flooded my mind.
How could I have possibly run into Matthias? Why would he bring me home? When did he leave?
And what about those fragmented memories—the hugging, holding hands, and kissing.
Was that all just a dream? Or was it not?
And what was truly unbelievable was the image of him making soup in my tiny kitchen. The shock lingered. I rushed into the kitchen right away, and of course, a pot was sitting on the stove with the lid on. I opened it to find cold chicken soup inside.
Ah… A mixture of surprise and despair washed over me as I stared b
