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?
After boarding the car, I ruminated for a while before suggesting, “Marcus, let’s go to Central Park. I’ll make whatever you want to eat at home.”
If we were to go somewhere crowded, I was sure that it would only make him even more upset.
His hands on the steering wheel visibly tensing, he glanced at me. “Why aren’t we going to the White residence?”
My mouth 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 to go back to there?”
After lowering his gaze for a second, he started driving in the direction of Central Park. “No.”
The hospital was not far from Central Park, so we soon returned. As it had been a long while since I came back here, the fridge was essentially empty.
It took me a second after peeking into the fridge before I said, “Give me a moment. I’m going to buy some things back from the supermarket downstairs.”
“I’ll come with you.”
With a faint smile, I shook my head. “It’s fine. I can go alone.”
He looked at me for a little longer. A silent agreement.
As it was already late, there were not many groceries in the supermarket. After picking some food that I knew how to prepare, I soon left.
When I returned to the house, I saw Marcus was no longer in the living room. After I placed my groceries in the kitchen, I went around to search for him.
The study room was where I found him, and he seemed like he was typing something into the computer.
When he saw me, he only looked at me and flatly replied, “You’re back.”
Nodding, I flashed him a smile. “I’m making pasta. It’ll be done in a while.”
The only answer he gave me was a quiet hum.
It was normal for me to overthink the situation, for his reactions would worry anyone else, too. He did not seem depressed or melancholic. It really was as if nothing had happened to him.
He hid his feelings so well that it seemed like Sharon had not died, and life was still going on as usual.
Once I was done with the pasta, I turned around, about to get him to eat. To my shock, he was leaning against the doorframe, arms folded, with a gloomy look on his face.
Sweat covering my back from the shock, I shakily asked, “Marcus, what’s wrong?”
The gloomy look dissipated, and he asked, “Are you done with the pasta?”
I nodded, fear still lingering in my heart. After scooping a serving out from the pot, I placed the plate on the table.
As I watched him eat, I could not help but mumble worriedly, “Marcus, are you okay?”
He paused and lifted his head to look at me. “What?”
I shook my head, sensing him becoming distant from me. “Hurry up and eat. It won’t be nice to eat cold pasta.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You’re not hungry?”
I gave him a small smile before shaking my head. “I’m not. Eat more.”
At that, he pursed his reply and fell silent.
As I watched him eat, I wondered if he tasted nothing of the pasta. It was as though he was only eating to fill his stomach.
After the meal, he sat on the couch, staring at the television that he did not turn on with a dark gaze.
At that moment, I felt as though I was reliving the moment when John found out about his father’s death. Back then, John’s eyes were filled with darkness. It was as if he had fallen into a black hole, determined to drag everyone into the void.
After keeping the plates, I sat down beside him and said, “Marcus, you have to keep going forward. Your mom wants you to have a bright future.”
He was silent for a moment. “You’re consoling me?”
I was at a loss for words.
After a while, I finally said, “It’s getting late. You should rest early. I’ll come around to deliver breakfast to you tomorrow. Put your work aside; you should rest at home for the next few days.”
I did not know how to console him, so all I could do was give him reminders.
Lifting a brow, he cast an icy gaze at me. “You’re not going to stay?”
After a pause, I shook my head.
Then I grabbed my jacket and left.
So many things had happened unexpectedly. By the time I reached the villa, it was already past midnight.
Before my car entered the garage, I saw the man standing by the doorway. He was a towering man. Under the dim streetlight, he looked like a weary traveler.
After parking my car, I stood by the doorway. Once again, it started drizzling.
His expression darkened. “Are you planning to stand outside for the rest of your life?”
With that said, he strode toward me. The more droplets landed on him, the more distant he seemed to me.
Pressing my lips tightly together, I muttered, “Didn’t you say you’ll be late tonight?” What I had understood from his call earlier was that it was likely he would not return tonight. After all, J City was far from K City. It would take him half a day just to fly there and back.
He sneered, “Do you think this isn’t late?”
He was right; it was already past midnight.
Instead of saying anything else, he pulled me into the villa. Staring at me with a dark look, he asked, “Where did you go?”
“Central Park,” I replied, not planning to hide anything from him. Whatever happened today was major, and I was late in coming home. Even if I said nothing about it, he would find out about it tomorrow.
He narrowed his eyes dangerously. “Why don’t you say there for a few more days? It’ll save you the trouble from having to travel around.”
I nodded. “Sounds good. I plan to do that too.”
“Sienna!” He gritted out, “Who is your husband?”
Speechless for a moment, I huffed, “You’re the one who asked me to move there. Why are you angry at my reply?”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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