Love Burned, She Rose Unscathed

On a quiet night, a whisper floated through the darkness from the other end of the phone, "Anne, it hurts."

Murray's voice was shaky, betraying his pain. In that instant, Roseanne felt sympathy.

Murray was strong, stubborn, and never one to back down. Whether it was drinking himself into a stomach ulcer or working so hard that he forgot to eat, he pushed himself to the limit. During those times, Roseanne had tried everything to help him recuperate.

She ensured he ate three square meals and even learned some massage techniques from an experienced physiotherapist. After much effort and time, she managed to get his health back on track. Yet, all she got in return was a terse "You're a bother." And sometimes, when his patience ran thin, he'd frown and snap, "Why are you acting like my mom?"

The memories, long buried, resurfaced in her mind, but the wave of sympathy quickly faded.

Roseanne replied, "I'm not a doctor. If it's that bad, go to the hospital."

When he heard her cold response, Murray's grip on the phone tightened, yet he persisted, "I want the oatmeal you make."

Roseanne stayed silent, listening.

No more words came from the other end, resulting in a silent standoff. Finally, Roseanne was the one to hang up.

Murray remained motionless, holding the phone. Thinking he was asleep, the nurse glanced over and was surprised to find him awake, his complexion pallid.

"Sir, are you..." The nurse's voice trailed off in concern.

Murray returned the phone and closed his eyes, worn out and silent.

...

The next day, Roseanne was already up as dawn broke.

She dialed Cliff's number. "How's your stomach? Feeling better? Still want some oatmeal?"

Deep in sleep, Cliff thought it was a

prank call, not even opening his eyes. But the moment he heard Roseanne's voice, he sat up immediately. "Roseanne! Ah,

Roseanne, your oatmeal was el.net

delicious. I finished it in a few bites

and have been craving it ever since. I wish I could have it daily."

Roseanne didn't expose his lie, telling him when to come and pick it up before ending the call. She and Murray could never return to what they once were. Doing this much was all she could offer.Content © provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

After a few days of rest, Murray nearly returned to his old self. During this time, Millie brought him oatmeal daily. Murray would ask her to leave it to cool down each time, planning to eat it later. Today, as usual, Millie arrived early, placed the oatmeal down, and snuggled up to him.

"Babe, you're finally getting better. You don't know how worried I've been these few days."

Murray smiled but said nothing, aware of her regular visits. Finally, he asked, "Aren't you skipping classes to be here?"

Millie shrugged with a playful grin. "I've skipped them. You're more important, after all. I wish I could be with you 24/7, caring for you, cooking for you..." Murray paused, surprised.

He remembered how, early in his relationship with Roseanne, he had wanted her to skip classes to spend time with him. She had refused no matter how much he pleaded, leading to a spat where they didn't speak for days.

Ultimately, he apologized, and their dates consisted of him accompanying her to class. He'd watch her, captivated, while she focused on her studies. They had loved each other so fiercely and possessed so many vibrant memories. How did they end up there?

Murray felt a sudden sense of disorientation.

Millie looked up and saw a distant look in Murray's eyes as if he was gazing through her at someone else, lost in thought.