The Rewritten Love: A Second Beginning Max Charming

Madelyn paused to take a sip from her glass. The weight of Ethan’s words dispelled her sleepy haze, and her mind began to race.

The soft ticking of the living room clock filled the brief silence. After a moment’s reflection, she met Ethan’s eyes, her lips pursed thoughtfully. Alright then, should I move out?” she asked.

There was an eerie calm to her demeanor, no trace of irritation discernible in her voice.

She had observed, of late, that the warmth once evident in Ethan’s eyes when he looked at her had dwindled. It was as though he now regarded her as a stranger, his gaze searching, almost as if he sought to peer into her very soul. This shift in his attitude hadn’t come out of nowhere. His frequent late-night returns and prolonged absences were clues she couldn’t ignore.

Madelyn wasn’t naive, nor was she oblivious on the matter. She had experienced what it was like to love someone deeply and unconditionally. She figured that he would not easily forget Donna, whom he had loved so profoundly. Moreover, Donna hadn’t done anything wrong.

Ethan held Madelyn’s gaze but remained silent, the weight of unspoken emotions thick in the room.

a hint of a smile on her lips, she said, “You don’t need to tiptoe around my feelings. I respect your choices. I’m going to head

to sit at the edge of the

toward the vanity, a silhouette emerged from the shadows, occupying the chair. The figure’s face remained indistinct, shrouded in the room’s low light. “It’s alright to let go, Maddie,” the figure whispered soothingly. “Don’t hold back your emotions. In my eyes, you’ll always be my

11 I’m not upset because I’ve done what I wanted to do. Mom… I’ve always wanted to be as great an artist as you. I want to follow in your footsteps forever. Father never supported my choices. No matter what decision I make, you’ll

your ground, Maddie, and follow your

“Thank you, Mom!”

vanity chair. The cat approached Madelyn, sniffing the familiar scent of her owner, then clambered onto Madelyn’s lap, rolling over and purring, seeking affection. Sleep was elusive for

Evelyn, who was dressed in worn, somewhat tattered attire. Her appearance suggesting she had just finished tending to her

clock hanging above chimed the precise hour of seven. A servant, eyeing Madelyn descending from upstairs, called