Love Burned, She Rose Unscathed

"If you need more proof, I've got it. Just an hour ago, we were sitting at that coffee shop near her place, chatting away."

"Every word of it true, feel free to check it out-"

Cliff glanced at the person next to him whose expression had soured to the extreme. "..." Is it too late to turn off the speakerphone now?

But Corley just added fuel to the fire, "Did you get all that? Need me to repeat it? Maybe someone should record it, take it back, and analyze it thoroughly."

Cliff: "..." Oh, come on! That's totally unnecessary!

"Uh... Corley, you're busy, and I've got things to do here, so I'm gonna hang up now, okay?"

With that, Cliff quickly ended the call.

Corley chuckled and sped off.

"Murray..." Cliff started cautiously, "Don't listen to his nonsense. It could all be fake..."

Murray, expressionless, turned around and went back to the private room.

Cliff hurried after him, thinking to himself, this is not going to end well...

York sat on the couch, utterly baffled, frantically signaling Cliff: [What's up with him? How did he manage to come back from a smoke break looking like he'd been through a war?] Cliff: [Sigh, don't ask. I'm so over this.]

Murray called the waiter over: "Bring us two bottles of whiskey. Nobody's leaving until they're finished."

...© 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.

At 2 AM, the whiskey was gone, and everyone was drunkenly sprawled out.

Murray leaned on the bar, eyes closed, but his lips murmured dreamily: "Anne..."

Cliff leaned in to listen.

York lit a cigarette, holding it between his fingers, not needing to hear to guess: "Crying over Roseanne again?" "Yeah."

"Deserves him! He made such a mess of their breakup, didn't leave Roseanne an ounce of dignity. Now he's all regrets." "Such a jerk."

"Cough, cough!" Cliff tactically coughed, "Ease up a bit. What now? Take him home?"

"We've both been drinking. Who's

going to drive? Let's just get hima

hotel room, let him sleep it off,

and

he can head back in the morning."

"That works." Cliff agreed.

...

Early in the morning, at the hotel.

Murray was half-asleep, the constant ringing of his phone pounding in his head like a headache.

"This better be important!" he answered irritably, not even checking who it was.

"Sir, it's Sadie. Ms. Millie says she's in pain. I don't know what to do, maybe you should come and check on her?" Murray frowned, "If she's not feeling well, go to the hospital. I'm not a doctor. What am I supposed to do, cure her?"

Sadie persisted, "The doctor has

already been here. Says stress isn't

around might help. She doesn't

good for the baby, having n't net

seem to be faking it. What if

something happens to the baby?

You should come."

Murray didn't want to deal with it, but remembering his promise to Beverley, he finally got up from bed.

Muttering under his breath, he started getting dressed.

...

Back at the villa, Millie already knew Murray was coming.

She applied a light makeup, the kind men liked most, that barely-there look, and slipped into a sexy off-shoulder maxi dress.

Her belly was still flat, not showing

signs of pregnancy yet, but she had

gained a little weight recently from being well-fed, accentuating her curves even more under the Silky fabric.

$1.19

Millie checked herself in the full-length mirror, adjusting her dress here and there until she was satisfied with the look. Soon, Murray arrived.

She walked up to him, hand on her waist, smiling: "Murray, you're back. I've missed you so much."