Chapter 6
Marcel could never forget the sudden contraction of his heart when he raced home and found his empty house.
Those feelings of unease gradually surfaced, eventually piecing together a cruel reality.
Alexa left.
She didn’t want him anymore.
The shared toiletries in the bathroom were left with only one person’s belongings at some point in the past. The clothes in the wardrobe, the slippers at the entrance…
It was evident that there was only one person left in the house.
Marcel’s head was feeling dizzy, almost unable to stand.
How could it be? Alexa loved him so much, she had been waiting for him to propose, how could she leave at this moment?
No… No, something must have been overlooked.
Marcel stumbled to his feet and hurriedly made his way to my studio.
But just in the next moment after seeing clearly, they froze in place.
The portraits of him that should have been carefully cleaned and hung in the studio were gone, replaced by scattered scraps of paper covering the floor.
Why… why?
Marcel did not even have the courage to step into this door.
“Mr. Doyle!” Nyla cautiously approached, her lips curling in satisfaction as she saw the messy studio. She spoke in a sweet voice, “What happened here? How did all those portraits get broken?”
Before the words had even finished, Mr. Doyle suddenly grabbed her by the neck and pressed her against the wall.
“Did you… it’s you, isn’t it?” Marcel’s veins on his hand bulged inch by inch. “Didn’t I tell you not to enter her room?!”
Nyla struggled to hold Marcel’s jaws tightly, continuously slapping and saying, “I… um, didn’t…” “How could it not be you!” Marcel exclaimed, throwing her to the ground. “Could it be that Alexa
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Chapter 6
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herself broke it?!”
“She cherished my portrait the most, how could she possibly do such a thing!”
“It was already like this when I came in!” Nyla couldn’t help but argue, “I just took the painting that was right in front of me…
“What was it delivered to?”
Nyla knew she had misspoken and closed her mouth, refraining from saying anything more.
Marcel became impatient and laughed sarcastically, “Nyla, the surveillance footage will be retrieved soon. You better hope you really didn’t do anything.”
On the third day after arrival, I successfully enrolled in the most famous local college for further
studies.
The mentors there were all humorous, and the classmates I studied with were also easy to get along with. Gradually, I slowly forgot about those unpleasant past events.
Perhaps fate has truly run its course, for all these days I never dreamt of Marcel, nor did I think of
him.
If you have to say it, there is neither love nor hate. When there is a connection, we gather, and when the connection ends, we separate. It’s not a big deal.
But I didn’t expect that one day, as I was returning home, I saw Marcel at my doorstep.
The first time we met, Iwas a little surprised because, after all, there were no familiar male
Chinese–Americans in my impression.
I only slightly relaxed at the second glance, oh, it’s him.
Marcel looked disheveled, with a scruffy beard and messy hair, and there was an unstoppable
shadow of dark circles under his eyes.
I politely nodded at him and asked, “Is there something I can help you
What surprised me was that Marcel suddenly had red eyes.
“Alexa, why did you… become so distant from me?”
I looked at him in confusion and asked, “Do we have any relationship?”
Marcel remained silent, his eyes red with anger.
Chapter 6
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I hesitated and said, “Did I not make myself clear before?” After a moment of contemplation, I nodded in understanding and said, “In that case, let me explain it to you again.”
Marcel grabbed my wrist and interrupted me, saying, “I don’t want to listen! You only say things that I don’t want to hear, Alexa. When did you become so heartless…”
He lowered his head, his voice filled with grievances.
You didn’t come to the wedding that day, so you didn’t see the 999 blue roses I prepared for you. You said that if we got married, we would fill our yard with blue roses.
“But I had prepared a blue rose, and you didn’t come…”
I tucked my hand into my sleeve and pushed away his hand that was holding my wrist, through the
sleeve.
“Marcel, I remember you had a cleanliness obsession, never letting me touch you.”
“Is the cleanliness obsession cured now?”
Marcel was feeling guilty and called out my name in a panic, wanting to grab my hand again, but I
slapped it away.
“But Marcel,” I cruelly smiled at him, “I had become a germophobe.”
“Don’t touch me, I found it dirty.”
Marcel pursed his lips, his eyes filled with confusion, his hand lingering in the air for a moment before finally weakly dropping down.
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“Alexa… How could you be so heartless, not even leaving me a single painting, leaving me without any memories.”
“Painting?” I sarcastically looked at him, “I saved it for you.”
Marcel suddenly lifted his eyes, and a glimmer of light finally ignited in those dark–colored pupils. He eagerly asked, “Is it true? Where?”
I laughed and said, “Do you remember the one on the wall in my studio, right in front of the door?”
I smirked as I watched Marcel’s face suddenly turn pale.
“I stayed, but I didn’t expect someone to enter my studio and destroy that painting.”
“After all, when you let Nyla stay over, you solemnly promised that she would only be in the guest room.”
