Derek was a figure of unreliability, a wellspring of ill-advised counsel.

In the wake of his internal turmoil, Marcus turned to a cigarette, its bitter flavor a reflection of his own internal turmoil. How dare she entertain an affair!

From the day they had sealed their union, his ardor had been unleashed like a tempest, a force that often transcended his restraint. How, then, could she share laughter and discourse with a stranger beyond their marriage’s walls?

The man beside Millie was draped in attire that bore the emblem of luxury, a testament to his affluence. But it paled in comparison to Marcus’ own.

A self-assured sneer danced upon his lips; in a single day, his earnings could eclipse the entire livelihood of this interloper.

Despite his well-practiced superiority, a flicker of anguish rippled through his handsome countenance, a crack in his facade. Resigning to his thoughts, he ignited his cigarette, allowing the smoke to coil in the air like ephemeral memories. The window lowered, and he cast his gaze skyward to the faint illumination of Millie’s room.

an enigma to

lifetime later, the prospect of

as he beheld Millie’s descent, a bag of garbage in

as Millie journeyed to a modest establishment and emerged with

staircase’s darkness enveloped her ascent, a path fraught with obscurity. In the shadows, sparks ignited, and a whiff of

Millie; who dared to smoke within the nocturnal

shadows?” she inquired,

the shadows? Without delay, she ventured to her doorstep, fumbling to insert her key into

a presence encircled her from behind, rendering her startled. A hand emerged to smother her impending outcry, replaced by a

“It’s me.”

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