In the opulent stillness of our mansion, bathed in the soft glow of crystal chandeliers, I find myself enveloped in an anticipation as timeless as the marble floors beneath me. The air, laden with the scent of fresh flowers meticulously arranged, echoes the luxury that surrounds us. As I wait, my fingertips trace the lines of an exquisite vase, a silent testament to the life we've built.
Amidst this grandeur, I linger by the floor-to-ceiling windows, where the city's twinkling lights seem to dance in rhythm with my heartbeat. The silence is broken only by the distant hum of the metropolis below, a symphony that underscores the grandeur of our shared existence.
With a sigh, I reach for my phone, a gleaming artifact amidst the plush cushions of our regal sofa. I record a voicemail, my voice carrying a delicate melody, "Baby, can you call me back? I miss you. It's so lonely in our mansion."