Chapter 4The Excel Sheet Bride

Back home from the TV station, I dug out several camera bags from the depths of the bookcase.

Those were my buried memories.

The texture of the camera bodies felt unfamiliar, and the batteries were long dead.

While waiting for the chargers to work, I inserted the memory card into the computer and opened those long-sealed photos.

The first one was a black woman waiting for cholera medication on a street corner.

The second was a five-year-old child soldier, shorter than his gun.

The third was refugees in North Kivu living in tattered tents.

...

The smell of gunpowder and dust transcended time.

My heart felt gripped by claws.

I leaned back in my chair, calming my racing heart, and smiled self-deprecatingly.

I wonder if Ethan saw these, would he still write [Obedient] in my notes column?

Just then, my phone vibrated twice.

It was a message from him. He sent a location for a restaurant.

I suddenly remembered he had invited the bridesmaids and groomsmen for a small gathering tonight.

I didn't have much family, so they were all Ethan's friends.

But I knew this was just an excuse for a dinner.

Because today, Vivian was back in the country.