Chapter 6
Marcel could never forget the sudden contraction
on 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 an 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, “… um, didn’t…”
“How could it not be you!” Marcel exclaimed, throwing her to the ground. “Could it be that Alexa 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 classinates 1 studied with were also easy to get along with. Gradually, I slowly forgot about those unpleasant past events.
Perhaps tate has truly run its course, for all these days I never dreamt of Marcel, nor did I think of him.
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