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?

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

her.

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

grew heavier. There was no way I was sleeping tonight. The cruel memories and my current heartache were too much. They made my

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

I was sick.

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

Idris. He had come

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

balcony and almost

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

pulled me into the bathroom without answering me, and unceremoniously twisted the switch for the shower, letting the hot

I dodged him. My voice was hoarse as I said,

myself.”

was probably angry by now. He glared at me and sneered. “Is there anything of yours I haven’t seen before? Why

a little. I looked at him and said, “Can

bath.”

devoured me. I could tell that my earlier self–harm had angered him. Thankfully, he was well–mannered enough that he would

when angry.

me a cold glance before finally leaving

the bath, I managed to regain some warmth in my b*dy. I stepped out of the