Chapter 41

Marceline lay in bed and coaxed herself to sleep. At 5:40 am, she went downstairs and saw Curtis lying on the couch. The villa she stayed in was small but refined. Even though the couch could seat three, it still couldn't accommodate his height. He had to curl his legs to fit. For a moment, Marceline thought she was seeing things. The shattered glass from the broken sliding door last night had already been cleaned up and disposed of in the nearby trash bin. When they were living together in a rented apartment, Curtis had always handled the chores. He had high standards for cleanliness and often called her clumsy for not doing things efficiently. But during those years, she never felt burdened. If anything, she felt deeply and wholeheartedly cherished. Now, Curtis was lying on the couch. His hair stood stiffly, as cold as his temperament, and his brow was slightly furrowed. It was as if he wasn't at ease, even in his sleep. Marceline stood there and stared for a while to make sure