A Sulawesi Romance

Chapter 18

A/N: The image above does not belong to me. It belongs to the person who uploaded it on the internet.

Third Person POV

"Let's go back inside," Mark said to Gun, giving him one last reassuring hug. "Things will be alright from now on."

Gun nodded while searching in his pocket for a handkerchief to wipe away his tears. Mark quickly pulled out his own handkerchief from his pocket and used it to wipe Gun's eyes and cheeks.

Mr. Siwat stopped midway up the steps to the lobby and turned to his son and Gun.

"Come back inside now, both of you," Mr. Siwat urged them. "There's a lot of work needing to be finished inside."

"Yes, sir," Gun said, quickly moving away from Mark and going up the steps to follow Mr. Siwat. Mark followed more slowly.

When Mr. Siwat and Gun reached the lobby, Mr. Siwat placed a hand gently on Gun's shoulder and said to him, "Don't worry about anything else anymore. You can count on me as a father figure. Don't hesitate to approach me if you have any problems. And don't forget that you can also count on my son Mark. He cares for you very much."

Gun hid his surprise at hearing the last few words about Mark from Mr. Siwat.

"Thank you for all your kindness, sir," Gun said, trying to smile through the tears that were starting to form in his eyes once more.

"Don't mention it," Mr. Siwat said. "Now go and assist my son with his duties. Here he comes now."

"What did my father say to you just now?" Mark wanted to know while watching his father walk away quickly towards his office.

"He told me to assist you with your duties," Gun said. "What duties do I have to assist you with?"

"Um ... um ... " Mark's face was deep in thought. "Actually work hours are over for me. And you should have clocked out already by now."

"Oh, let me do that right now," Gun said, turning to walk towards the area where the time in and time out machine was located.

Mark grabbed his wrist.

"No need to do that," Mark said. "I will ask Mrs. Lu our payroll manager to adjust your time record for you."

"What do you want me to do now?" Gun asked, a bit anxiously.

"Let's go to my private suite," Mark said, taking Gun by the hand.

"What do I need to do there?" Gun asked, feeling more anxious now.

"I ... I ... I need help with cleaning out my closet," Mark said. "There is so much stuff inside there that I need to throw out and donate to the homeless shelter downtown. Will you help me out with that?"

"Sure, I will," Gun replied, his mind resting easy now. "Do you want me to stop by the Supplies Room to pick up some empty boxes?"

"There's no need to do that right now," Mark said. "I just need to sort out which stuff needs to be taken out. When that is done then I will be needing those empty boxes."

"Okay," Gun nodded. "But I don't know yet how to get to downtown by myself. And I don't know where exactly the homeless shelter is located."

"We will go there together," Mark assured Gun. "You will be coming with me to help me carry the boxes inside the shelter."

"Okay," Gun said once more, pulling his hand away from Mark's grasp when they encountered Mr. Siwat in the hallway. Mr. Siwat was also on his way to the elevator section.

Mr. Siwat did not fail to notice the action of Gun quickly pulling away his hand from Mark's grasp. Mark gave his father a sheepish smile.

"Where are both of you going?" Mr. Siwat asked while keeping the elevator door open so that both his son and Gun could go inside ahead of him.

"I have asked Gun to help me sort the stuff inside my closet," Mark replied.

"Why?" Mr. Siwat asked with a raised eyebrow.

"There's so much stuff in there that I no longer use," Mark told his father. "I'm planning to donate them to the homeless shelter downtown."

"That's a good idea, son," Mr. Siwat said, and when Gun was not looking, Mr. Siwat winked at his son.