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?

car, I ruminated for a while before suggesting, “Marcus, let’s go to Central Park. I’ll make whatever you want to eat at

was sure that

the steering wheel visibly tensing, he glanced at me. “Why aren’t we going to the White

maids, and I won’t get to cook when I’m there.” Then, I tentatively asked, “You want to go

his gaze for a second, he started driving in the direction of Central Park.

soon returned. As it had been a long while since I came back here, the fridge

peeking into the fridge before I said, “Give me a

“I’ll come with you.”

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

at me for a little longer.

were not many groceries in the supermarket. After picking some food that I knew

the living room. After I

was where I found him, and he seemed

only looked at me and flatly replied,

him a smile. “I’m making pasta. It’ll be done

gave me was

for his reactions would worry anyone else, too. He did not seem depressed or melancholic. It really

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

I turned around, about to get him to eat. To my shock, he

my back from the shock,

gloomy look dissipated, and he asked, “Are