As the clock neared midnight, the shrill ring of her phone startled Joanne. Who could be calling at this hour?
"Hello, is this Joanne?"
"Yes, who is this?"
"You wicked witch! You filthy seductress! Listen here, if you keep messing with other peoples husbands, watch out for your face getting disfigured! Beware of getting hit by a car when you go out! May lightning strike you down in the rain..."
The barrage of insults from the anonymous caller left Joanne in shock, followed by a surge of anger.
"Who the hell are you? Whose husband have I supposedly seduced? Tell me your name!"
Joanne was furious. This was the third day in a row that an unknown woman had called her, each time with a different voice and at different times, hurling abuse at her before hanging up without any explanation.
And just like that, the call ended again, leaving her bewildered and frustrated, wanting to retort but with no target in sight.
She spent her life either working or secluding herself in her rented apartment, with reading and writing as her hobbies. Social activities were alien to her, and she couldnt fathom how she had earned the reputation of a homewrecker.
These cursed calls had been made three times, each from a different payphone, and the voice seemed to be processed, making it impossible to trace any leads.
Joanne thought: How could someone who doesnt know her have her number? It must be someone who knows her or knows someone who does!
The inexplicable insults kept her awake at night, her mind racing with worries. The callers vicious tone was like that of a shrew screaming in the streets. What if it was a paranoid madwoman? With the enemy hiding in the shadows and herself in the open, an ambush with acid wasnt out of the question, and that would be too unjust!
The next morning, when Joanne encountered her manager, Roger, she felt an urge to ask him if it could be a woman from his life who had misunderstood her.
After all, she couldnt think of any man she was close to, apart from her colleagues and customers. Roger was the only male she interacted with closely at work, so there was an eighty percent chance that the problem was with him!
It seemed like the sun had risen in the west as Joanne greeted him with a faint smile, taking the initiative to say, "Good morning, Roger!"
Roger, who usually received a forced greeting from her without any expression, noticed that this young team leader, though not strikingly beautiful, had a pair of deep, mysterious eyes, shrouded in mist. He was certain they were eyes with a story, stirring an inexplicable desire to delve deeper.
So, when he saw her smile for the first time, he felt an odd tickle in his heart, and he responded with a smile and a nod, "Good morning, Joanne!"
Joanne opened her mouth, her expression awkward and restrained, "Uh... I... I have a question for you..."
"Go ahead!" Roger, who rarely saw her hesitate, was used to her being straightforward and concise.
She didnt know how to ask, but she had to, and the most likely suspect was the woman behind him.
"Roger, are you married?"
Roger was taken aback by her question. Was there a passionate heart beneath her cold exterior? She went straight for the question of his marital status. Could it be that she was interested in him?
He decided to tease her a bit, "Joanne, why do you want to know? Are you thinking of marrying me?"
Joannes face flushed, and she bit her lip, asking, "I want to know if you have a wife? Or... a girlfriend."
Seeing the rosy blush on her fair skin and the anticipation in her deep-set eyes, he felt that tickle in his heart again and replied playfully, "So what if I do? Or dont I?"