Facade of Love

Chapter 27 I Think I’m Sick

Idris held his phone as his dark eyes bored into me. He did not answer it. I had no clue what he was thinking, but Moore seemed determined to get through to him. If he did not pick up, she would

simply keep calling.

Finally, he could not resist any longer. He answered the call. I had no idea what was said on the other

end of the line.

He got out of bed, went to the closet, and emerged in different clothes. I lay in bed, silently watching him hurriedly grab his coat and head out.

I watched him leave in silence, all expectations in my heart crumbling. My heart was filled with bitterness and self–mockery.

As Idris reached the bedroom door, he seemed to remember that I was his wife. He paused, looked back at me, and said, “Moore’s scared of thunder. Sorry, I need to go to her. You should get some

rest.”

I did not respond. Anyway, he left too quickly to catch anything I might have wanted to say.

The thunder outside grew increasingly loud. I clutched the blanket tightly as the sound echoed through the empty bedroom, its reverberations lingering for a long time.

Moore was afraid of thunder, he said?

let her face them

her.

on a stormy night. The moment I did, all I would see were the severed limbs and mountains of corpses from

current heartache were too much. They made my entire b*dy ache. I reopened the previously–closed window and stood

sometimes relieved mental torment. This was the only method I had found over the last five years to alleviate the pain of the torture from

was

open again, I had already been frozen stiff from the cold.

Idris. He had come

He strode toward me, his handsome face dark and violent, looking almost as if

back from the balcony and almost screamed, “Yvette, have you gone

to show any expression. I wanted to smile at him but could not muster the strength. I could only

eyes were bloodshot. He roughly pulled me into the bathroom without answering me, and unceremoniously twisted the switch for the shower, letting the

him. My voice was hoarse as

myself.”

was probably angry by now. He glared at me and sneered. “Is there

looked at him and said, “Can you leave? I want to

bath.”

that my earlier self–harm

when angry.

gave me a cold glance before

some warmth in my b*dy. I stepped out of the bathroom to find