My Love for You Broke Me

Chapter 88

I was taken aback by his sudden question—I didn't expect him to wake up. With an awkward smile on my face, I tried my best to explain myself. "I couldn't sleep after waking up. It seems like the skies are turning bright, so I think I'll go down to prepare breakfast," I uttered before rushing downstairs to prepare breakfast. While I was downstairs, I kept smacking my hand against my burning cheeks. I was contemplating sleeping on the couch that night.

After lazing on the couch for nearly an hour, I got up and went to prepare breakfast. I wasn't too good at cooking, so I simply prepared a pot of porridge and ate a bowl of it before zoning out on the couch. When Shawn finally showed up, he was dressed in his usual black suit. He didn't leave the house during the day—he simply sat on the couch and browsed through some books. During the noontime, he headed to the kitchen to prepare his own meal. The maid didn't come, so I stole some of his food. In the afternoon, he stayed in the study, and I only knocked on his door sometime in the evening. "What would you like to eat tonight, Shawn?" He was in the midst of calligraphy-writing, and there were a bunch of small words gathered on the white piece of paper. "What do you feel like eating tonight?" He lowered his calligraphy pen before questioning me in return.

I only knew how to make instant noodles and porridge. "I'm not hungry yet," I replied after giving it some thought. I only said that because I wanted him to prepare our meal. It was drizzling outside, and I walked over to find him writing quotes from one of Jean-Paul Sartre's classic books, Being and Nothingness. His words were extremely neat—they looked similar to the ones that hung on his walls. Could he have been the one who wrote all of those? I wondered.

"Your calligraphy skills are amazing. Your strokes are stable and smooth. It seems like you're a master at this." I didn't hold back with my compliments.

He raised an eyebrow. "Do you write?"

My father used to be extremely good at calligraphy writing, so he trained me in it when I was a lot younger. However, I never had the talent—my work would always end up as a mess. My dad eventually gave up on me. "I was trained in it as a child, but I was really bad. However, I can tell the difference between good and bad work, and I can tell that you're a master!" I uttered with an awkward laugh.

He didn't seem impressed by my compliments. Instead, he leaned back in his seat before giving me orders. "I want you to write." I wanted to reject him, but I was too afraid to do it when I met the cold gaze in his eyes. So, I obediently shuffled closer to his side before picking up the brush and holding it above the white piece of paper.

"Why aren't you writing?" he asked in his deep voice. I bit my bottom lip as I wrote my name, 'Renee'. It looked like it was written by a child—it was a complete mess. However, Shawn didn't comment on my trashy skills. Instead, he held onto the back of my hand before he guided me to rewrite the same word. I felt my heart tingling as I listened to his breathing beside my ear. The close proximity of our bodies made my blood boil with passion. I felt the urge to avoid him, but my body wouldn't move for some reason.

The 'Renee' he wrote looked ten times better than mine—it seemed to have a magical beauty that was similar to the magical aura that surrounded Shawn. "You're so impressive," I uttered as I found myself starstruck by his skills. He let go of my hand and pulled his icy palm away after hearing my words. I stared at him dumbfoundedly, and I found myself looking into his forbidding and ferocious eyes the moment I looked up.

"I'm not someone you can long for, Myra," he uttered in a threatening tone. He still referred to me as Myra. Is there a misunderstanding here? I was stunned for a moment. "I was just praising you for being cool," I muttered while shaking my head. However, he no longer responded to my words after that—he simply turned and left the study. I stood around and stared at the words he had written as I thought, Was he trying to warn me just now? He's telling me not to fall for him, right? But I've never thought of getting involved with him. I just thought that he's an impressive man.

All of a sudden, I seemed to understand the advice I had for May—even if I wasn't interested in Shawn, he was still a man who was abnormally outstanding and impressive. It was hard not to fall for him. When I came to this realization, I decided that it was about time to leave. I had to leave and return to Bryxton. When I walked out of the study, I found him preparing a meal in the kitchen. It was a simple meal that seemed rather bland.

I walked into the kitchen and got myself a bowl of noodles before adding some vegetables to it. Then, I sat on the couch and finished my meal before washing the bowl that I had used. Shawn hadn't finished his meal at this point, but I approached him to speak in a calm tone. "I think I'd like to return to Bryxton tomorrow, Shawn."

"Okay," he uttered without a hint of emotion in his voice.

"Thank you for saving me, and thank you for treating my cancer. My life is all yours now." The way I spoke sounded rather insincere, so I continued speaking in a more earnest voice. "If you ever need me, I'll be sure to drop everything and come to you no matter where I am, who I'm with, or what I'm doing." I gazed at him calmly while putting on a smile. "You might not need it, but this is everything that I've got! You're the second person who has treated me so well in my whole life, Shawn. Thank you so much." If Shawn ever needed it, I would sacrifice my life for him.

"Sure. Safe trip." That was all he said in response to my heartfelt speech. This man was no different from a contract killer! I headed upstairs with a heavy heart. That night, Shawn didn't enter the room to sleep at all. Perhaps he was worried that I would take advantage of him.

The next morning, I woke up to find him looking fresh and energetic as he sat on the couch and browsed through one of his books. I hadn't specified my time of departure, and he didn't ask me anything about it. It was almost as if I could come over and leave any time I wished to. It didn't seem like I had to tell him anything.

After having a bowl of the porridge left behind from yesterday, I headed upstairs to put on some makeup before leaving. I was especially careful with my makeup that day, and I put on some brown eyeshadow before curling my hair and changing into a dress. When I went downstairs again, Shawn was still in the same posture from before. "I'm heading back to Bryxton now," I told him as I walked toward the front door.

He gazed at me with a look of mild surprise before narrowing his eyes a little. "Safe trip." I nodded before I realized a clear bite mark beside his palm area. I figured that I must have been the one who bit him—I didn't expect to leave a mark on his pretty hands.

After leaving the Xenos' Villa, I hailed a cab to look for Merlin. He was shocked to find me in Bryxton, and he immediately asked if I was the person in the video. "What video?" I asked curiously. He immediately handed his phone over to me.

It was a video of me standing under the rain in front of the church doors, begging for Nicholas to take me home. I had carefully kneeled down in front of him when he responded in his cruel tone. "I'll have to get married and have kids someday, Renee. I can't waste the rest of my life away with you! You know what's the issue—you can't even have kids!" he cried in the video. Surely I don't need anyone to remind me of that, I thought.

"Are you blind?" I asked Merlin as I handed the phone back to him. The video was in such high definition, and the woman in it was obviously me! The way he questioned me made me feel even worse about myself! He let out a sigh before he continued speaking. "Where have you been? I couldn't call you at all."

There had been tons of people who were trying to reach my phone throughout this period. However, I hadn't responded to any of them, and I hadn't viewed any of my WhatsApp messages as I didn't want it to ruin my mood. Waylen felt that this was a good idea—he felt that it was good for my healing process.

"It's fine," I comforted Merlin. "I'm heading back to Bryxton now. Where's my Rolls Royce? I want my keys back."

"Are you in a rush?" Merlin furrowed his brows.