Love Burned, She Rose Unscathed novel Chapter 291

In the wee hours, a downpour began.

Murray drove back to the mansion, parked his car, but couldn't bring himself to get out.

Staring at the house that was no longer a "home" without Roseanne, he felt an emptiness inside.

He pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

In the confined space, smoke swirled, unable to dissipate.

The crimson tip of the cigarette glowed between his fingers, blurring his features with its ascent.

Murray seemed to sink into the darkness, as if blending with the night itself.

The duration of a single cigarette, neither long nor short.

His gaze, previously unfocused, sharpened as the cigarette burned down—

Giving up on Roseanne was out of the question!

Having had and lost her did not mean she couldn't be won back.

If he could just win her back, maybe everything could go back to the way it was before.

Murray opened the car door, discarded the cigarette butt, and headed toward the mansion.

Millie stood at the door, her smile beaming.

Murray glanced at his watch. 1 AM, huh...

“Murray, I…”

Millie started to speak but didn't get to finish before he walked past her, heading inside.

It was as if she was invisible, just part of the air.

Millie's smile froze.

But she quickly recovered, plastering the smile back on her face: “Murray, I cooked dinner tonight. I called you, but you didn't answer. I couldn't send messages either; you must have blocked me…”

Murray stopped in his tracks and turned to look at her, “What, are you complaining?”

“No, no… I just meant, could you unblock me? I was worried not being able to reach you,” Millie said, treading lightly.

He didn't respond, clearly too uninterested even to refuse outright.

Yet, as if she didn't notice, she walked to the dining table and started speaking: “I didn't know when you'd be back, so I just waited… I must have reheated these dishes four or five times; they're probably not good anymore…”

Murray glanced at the table, and couldn't help but laugh.

Grilled shrimp, minced meat omelette, sautéed parsley, and sauerkraut vermicelli soup.

“Alright.”

In the master bedroom, Murray lay on the bed, thoughts of Millie's dinner inadvertently leading him back to Roseanne.

From a novice in the kitchen to perfecting soups and stews just for him, no one could match her culinary skills.

No matter how late he returned, the dishes she prepared were always warm.

Anything he was allergic to was banished from the table.

The perfect balance of nutrition was something she meticulously learned from cookbooks and nutrition guides.

The stark difference between then and now was painfully obvious.

…

The next morning, Murray got ready for work.

Millie, seemingly oblivious to his hints, had prepared breakfast again.

Murray passed by without a glance at the table.

Yet Millie, undeterred and without a hint of anger, reached for a tie.

“What are you doing?” Murray caught her wrist in a firm grip.