Love Burned, She Rose Unscathed

Murray froze in place. "You..."

Remembering what he did to her at the villa, Roseanne looked at him with both fear and caution.

"Don't come any closer! Stay away from me!"

"Anne..." A pang of pain shot through Murray's heart. "That day, I..."

Roseanne cut him off. "Stop it! Just leave. We have nothing to talk about."

"Anne..." With his eyes bloodshot, Murray stood rigidly, "I'm sorry. It was my fault. Can't we stop fighting? I shouldn't have, shouldn't have said and done those things..."

"I missed you too much... It was just a moment of impulse...I'm here because I want you to come back to me..."

"Come back?" Roseanne shot him a cold look. "To be what, your mistress?"

Murray blurted out, "If you agree to come home, I'll break up with Millie immediately."

Roseanne shook her head. "I refuse."

"Anne..." Just as Murray attempted to approach her again, Roseanne quickly turned and ran back to her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

After a moment, the outside noise faded away, and she cautiously stepped out to check. She found Murray slumped against the wall, asleep.

sighed, not knowing what to

broke, and the first sunlight gently filled the room through the windows. The figure on the couch stirred, and as Murray opened his eyes, a wave of dizziness hit him, causing him to squint uncontrollably. Once the dizziness subsided, he sat up,

and tidy, the unfamiliar setting and the cramped layout felt too simple

from the

looked up, suddenly locking eyes with her clear eyes.

you

frowned, then shook

never say, "Anne, come

my door, disturbing my life, bothering others. So, please don't do such childish things again.

and her words felt like

he scoffed, "This tiny, old dump? Do you think I'd want to

begged

come back!"

his coat and stormed out, slamming the

corner of the street, he dialed Cliff's number. "What are you up to?

...

you just left a party. You still smell like

drinks in the clothes from the previous day. He sat down

retorted, "I called you here to drink, not to

his hands in surrender.

the staff gone,