When There Is Nothing Left But Love

I knew he was asking about Sharon, so I hid my sadness away and replied, “She’s been sent to the funeral parlor.”

Although I did not witness her final moment, I had overheard the conversation of those who had. As she had fallen from such great height, their description of her final appearance was that she was crushed beyond recognition.

For a brief moment, I could even imagine it.

He nodded, an abnormally distant look in his eyes. When he looked at the soup I brought, he asked, “Do you only have soup?”

I froze, not used to his calmness after going through such tragedy. Then I nodded before shaking my head. “What do you want to eat? I’ll buy it right away.”

“It’s fine. I’ll take that.” He took the soup from me and began drinking it like he normally would. It was as though he had not just gone through a tragedy several hours ago.

His unusual reaction worried me, but I did not know how to console him. “What else do you want to eat? I can buy it for you.”

He paused his motion and shook his head. After a beat, his gaze landed on me. “Have you eaten?”

I stiffened, but shook my head. “I’m not hungry.”

He put down the bowl before he stood up and grabbed his jacket. Looking at me, he uttered, “Let’s go. Let’s grab a bite and a walk.”

As he dragged me out of the hospital, I stared at his towering figure, unable to spot anything different about him from the usual.

However, there was one thing that was different—his gaze. He had a murderous gaze, and that was something he never had. It was hatred—deep hatred.

I was shocked by it. Where did that come from?

a while before suggesting, “Marcus, let’s go to Central Park. I’ll make whatever you

to go somewhere crowded, I was sure that it would only make him even

wheel visibly tensing, he glanced at me. “Why aren’t we

set in a hard line. “The White family has maids, and I won’t get to cook when I’m there.” Then, I tentatively asked, “You want

second, he started driving

it had been a long while since I came

a second after peeking into the fridge before I said, “Give me a moment. I’m going to buy some

“I’ll come with you.”

smile, I shook my head. “It’s fine. I can go

a little longer. A

many groceries in the supermarket. After picking some food that

longer in the living room. After I placed my

I found him, and he seemed like he was

he only looked at me

a smile. “I’m making pasta. It’ll be

answer he gave

anyone else, too. He did not seem depressed or melancholic. It really was as if nothing had

feelings so well that it seemed like Sharon had not died, and life was still going on

around, about to get him to eat. To my shock, he was leaning against the doorframe, arms folded, with a

back from the shock,

and he asked, “Are