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!”

quick wash-up. By the time I came

of rice. “You should eat more. When you’re done, we’ll go for a

The food was wonderful, but I did not have much of an appetite and only managed to

me to continue. He merely said, “We have fruits in the fridge, and snacks too! Go get

experienced in taking care of women?” As a woman,

replied frankly, “That’s how I take care of

me off

found that he bought quite a

small box of strawberries and was about to wash them in the kitchen when he called out, “They’re already washed. You

Fine, he’s

my lack of activity, he suggested, “Why don’t you change into something

my mouth to speak. Initially, I did not want to go, but then I thought, why

rather good-looking, so much so that he managed

Looking up at him,

his eyebrows

into my mind, and for a while, I

emotions, for he let out a loose sigh. He stayed beside me and patted me on the back, “Sorry about

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

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