Bride Behind The Mask (Frederick and Marguerite)

Chapter 624

In the stillness of the night, Frederick's mind snapped into harsh clarity.

Marguerite's probing question had sent him spiraling into a labyrinth of self- reflection and doubt.

Had his fervent kisses and possessive embrace been acts of love or spiteful revenge?

His thoughts, a tangled web of unrest, spurred him to dress with hurried motions, a desperate urge to flee not just the room but also Marguerite's unsettling inquiry.

Yet as he tugged at the stubborn door handle, which refused to yield, he was faced with the stark reality that there was no escape.

Resigned, Frederick returned to the room without approaching Marguerite. He drew back the curtains and stood on the balcony to smoke, his silhouette bathed in the lunar glow, majestic yet tinged with an air of melancholy.

Marguerite's heart ached more deeply than the sorrowful scene before her. Watching him smoke, one cigarette after another, she felt an overwhelming sense of loss.

Was it so hard for him to distinguish love from hate?

even that seemed a luxury beyond her

final cigarette and turned back to the dimly lit bedroom. His eyes were inscrutable pools of shadow, and Marguerite could not

living room. You should get some rest," he said, his voice void of the passion that had just consumed them. It was as if their intense encounter had been nothing

felt so palpably real to her, the emotions

went to the living room, where he dozed off on the couch, never uttering another word or stepping foot

body and her tumultuous feelings to the enveloping darkness, as tears silently

the Winston

before a photograph of Frederick

remained bare, save for a scattering of facial features she had

Anticipating her mother's return, she quickly swapped Frederick's photograph with one

conscience, she was instead greeted by Hayes, donning blue pajamas and dashing into the room,

aren't you asleep yet?"

your light on... just came to... check on you..." Hayes

canvas, pointing to the disjointed