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.

Roseanne sighed, not knowing what to say.

Dawn 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, rubbed his temples, and instinctively scanned his surroundings.

Although clean and tidy, the unfamiliar setting and the cramped layout felt too simple and constricting for him.

Roseanne emerged from the bedroom.

Murray looked up, suddenly locking eyes with her clear eyes. "Anne?"

Roseanne sat down expressionlessly. "Do you remember what you did last night?"

Murray frowned, then shook his head.

The sober him would never say, "Anne, come back" like that.

Roseanne coldly smirked, "Last night at eleven, you wouldn't stop knocking on my door, disturbing my life, bothering others. So, please don't do such childish things again. We're adults, and let's act like one."

Murray's head still ached, and her words felt like a punch to the gut.

His critical gaze swept the room, and he scoffed, "This tiny, old dump? Do you think I'd want to come k

Even if you begged me, I woere?

come back!"

After that, he grabbed his coat and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Reaching the corner of the street, he dialed Cliff's number. "What are you up to? Come out. I need a drink!"

...

"Man, you look like you just left a party. You still smell like booze."

Summoned to the bar, Cliff found Murray alone, downing drinks in the clothes from the previous day. He sat down beside Murray, teasing him with a smile.

Murray retorted, "I called you here to drink, not to chat."

Cliff raised his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine, I'll drink."

Daytime at the bar, with the staff gone, just the two of them were drinking awkwardly.

Murray asked, "Where's everyone else?"

Cliff sipped his wine. "York got called back by his dad, and Corley's been busy lately. Don't know what he's up to, haven't seen him in days."

Murray was only making conversation, not concerned. He picked up his drink and downed it in one gulp.

Seeing his friend's mood, Cliff

stayed by his side. They drank from

day into night until Cliff called a

cab

to take the drunken Murray back to

the

mansion.

After finally settling him in, Cliff watched Murray fast asleep, mumbling "Anne" repeatedly, and couldn't help but shake his head.