At the front door, I slipped my key out slowly and turned the lock as quietly as I could.
The moment the door opened, I went straight for the bedroom. The door was half-open. Through the gap, I could see the room was empty.
I turned to the guest bedroom.
Pushed the door open. No one.
The study. The bathroom. The balcony. I even checked the storage closet.
Every room was silent. Not a soul.
Where was Ethel?
Just as the question formed in my mind, the kitchen door swung open.
Ethel stepped out wearing an apron, carrying a plate of food.
She spotted me and froze, surprised.
"Honey? You're home so early today?"
She set the plate down on the dining table and gave me a warm smile.
"I was planning to make a few more dishes before you got off work. You're back too soon. I'm not even finished yet."
I glanced past her into the kitchen. Chopped vegetables were lined up on the cutting board. A pot of pork tripe and lotus seed soup, my favorite, was simmering on the stove.
She'd clearly been in there for a while.
The tension drained out of me. I managed a small smile.
"Nothing going on at the office today, so I left early."
Ethel nodded. "Go rest for a bit, then. Let me finish the last two dishes and dinner will be ready."
She turned and headed back into the kitchen.
I watched her bustle around, her back to me, and the question slipped out before I could stop it.
"Why'd you park your car sideways across my spot today?"
Ethel glanced back at me, looking a little sheepish.
"Oh, I was worried you'd come home hungry, so I rushed up to cook for you. Didn't bother parking properly—just pulled in sideways and ran upstairs."
Ethel's demeanor was perfectly natural.
Not a single word out of place.
After all, every day when I came home from work, a hot meal was waiting for me on the table.
Ethel was a surgical doctor. Her workload was enormous, yet no matter how busy she got, she always found time to come home and cook for me.
Sometimes I told her to take a break, to stop pushing herself so hard. But she always said the same thing:
"Your health isn't great. You get shaky and lightheaded the moment you skip a meal. I'm not taking any chances."
"I need to make sure there's a hot, fresh meal waiting for you the second you walk through that door. Nothing in the world is more important than that."
She went back to the stove.
Before long, dinner was ready.
Four dishes and a soup. Every single one, my favorite.