“The chains of weariness have enshrouded me of late,” Marcus replied, weariness painted upon his tone. “His counsel was one of respite, fearing my relentless labor might cause dire consequence.”

Yet Millie sensed a nuance beyond the surface. Marcus bore within him a concealed narrative, a story yet untold.

Facing the clarity in Millie’s eyes, Marcus felt a pang of melancholy. He hated lying, but it was an illness without a cure.

His countenance remained resolute before Millie, a facade meant to shield her from his fragility. His desire was unwavering—to spare her the weight of his concerns.

“Let’s head back. As you see, I’m hale and hearty,” he declared, his words buoyant in an attempt to dispel Millie’s burgeoning concern.

An inkling of consternation creased Millie’s brow.

charming bookstore. Millie, seized by a literary yearning, declared her intention to procure a book. Marcus, ever the companion, joined her within the quaint emporium. Amid the shelves and aisles, they sought their quarry

the acquisition upon her lap, and as

prompts this selection?” queried Marcus, his curiosity kindled by the

veiling her deeper musings. A suspicion had sprouted within her—a

photograph have slipped

drove fast back

the book before her. Marcus, post-shower as well, assumed a

in due course, her head found its reprieve

I’m adrift in the sea of

knowledge did Millie possess? This very selection of book

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