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?

could not bear to let her face them alone. He would go to

her.

back from the border five years ago, I had never dared to close my eyes on a stormy night. The moment I did, all I would see were the severed limbs and mountains of corpses from my time in captivity. How could Idris not understand? Oh, I forgot. He would never understand. He could not see those things back then. Only

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

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

I was

again, I had already been frozen stiff from the

He had

his expression changed drastically. He strode toward me, his handsome face dark and violent, looking almost as if he

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

looked at him, my face frozen, unable to show any expression. I wanted to smile at him but could not muster the

bathroom without answering me, and unceremoniously twisted

he reached to remove my clothes, I dodged him. My voice was hoarse as I said,

myself.”

angry by now. He glared at me and sneered. “Is there anything of yours I

b*dy a little. I looked at him and said, “Can you

bath.”

His deep, cold eyes almost devoured me. I could tell that my earlier self–harm had angered

when angry.

cold glance before finally leaving

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