It was his birthday.
I used to prepare his favorite sweet dish every year on that day.
His wife had forgotten his birthday last year. She was embarrassed and furious to see me greet him early in the morning.
Soon I had found myself in my new home with several others like me.
“Better this than the constant friction at home,” Joy had told me while completing the formalities.
“Came for my sweet dish,” he told me, embracing me tightly.