When There Is Nothing Left But Love

When we got home, he laid me down on the sofa in the living room before getting me some water and my medicine. He then squatted next to me and said, “Do you still want to take your meds?”

I nodded, reached out to take medicine from him, and swallowed it. I managed to calm down a bit after that. Feeling exhausted, I proceeded to lean back on the sofa.

He sat down and stayed right there next to me throughout a very long silence. I felt lucky that every time something bad happened, there was always someone who would stand by me, and we would pull through whatever it was together.

When Grandma died, George Fuller stayed with me. And now it was Marcus’ turn. I had no clue how much longer I could stay sane, but I always felt that perhaps tomorrow, or someday later, I would not be able to hold on anymore.

Depression kept coming back. I could not tell whether I was just really bad at coping with it or was it destined to be this way.

I fell asleep without knowing it. I did not know how long I had slept, but night had fallen by the time I woke up.

Noises came from the living room. I rose to check, only to find Marcus in the kitchen, donning an apron as he cooked. His stance and actions resembled those of a master chef.

Hearing movements coming from behind, he turned around and, upon seeing my conscious self, smiled as he said, “You should go wash your face. Dinner will be ready soon!”

I leaned on the door frame, watching him prepare the food with great expertise. “Were you a student at Neo Oriental Academy?”

He chuckled, pride glinting in his eyes. “Ho? You’re talking about that famous culinary school? Well, hearing this question come from you, that should be a compliment!”

I nodded, not holding back on flattery. “You seem to know your stuff very well!”

He turned off the stove, looked back at me, and nagged, “Go wash up!”

obediently entered the bedroom for a quick wash-up. By the time I came out, he had a full course ready on the table, complete with

me a bowl of

but I did not have much

said, “We have fruits in

this experienced in taking care of women?” As

nodded and replied frankly, “That’s how

me off

quite a number of fruits. He probably went out on

about to wash them in the kitchen when he called out, “They’re already washed. You can go ahead

he’s quite

cleared the table while I returned to the sofa. Noting my lack of activity, he suggested, “Why don’t you change into something else?

to go, but then I thought, why not? We need to live a little, don’t

darkness. Marcus was rather good-looking, so much so that he managed to draw the attention of the many people wandering around the residence, especially young women, who also happened

street lamp. Looking up at him, I said, “The woman who marries you

hands in his pockets, he arched his eyebrows and said in a laid-back manner,

my mind, and

perceived my emotions, for he let out a loose sigh. He stayed beside me and patted me on the back, “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean

my head. It had nothing to do with him. It was my own problem, and I could not get over it. No matter how hard I tried, I seemed to be

him… a funeral portrait?” I choked. My hands had begun to tremble on