Despite his stern demeanor, he used to always playfully smile while teasing her, a sight she found enchanting.

Heat welled up in Melissa's eyes.

A desperate impulse surged within her, urging her to forfeit dignity and plead for his stay. She even entertained the ignoble thought of an intimate encounter with him this very night.

But she recognized her unworthiness.

As expected, Marcus uttered with indifference, "I need not be with someone who has shared herself with another."

Subsequently, he strode toward the door.

"Marcus," her voice trailed from behind.

He halted, refraining from facing her. Evidently, he awaited her words.

Shrouded in the thin quilt, Melissa murmured, "You haven't touched the noodles. They're cold. I'll heat them up for you."

Marcus abruptly turned his gaze.

His gaze bore into her, a sneer playing on his lips. "Miss Brown, comprehend your actions. If feelings for me are absent, cease playing the innocent and docile lamb. Yes, I once held affection for you, but that's bygone. Regarding the noodles, consume them on your own."

Firmly gripping the doorknob.

The sound of sobbing reached him from behind. Despite the emotional turmoil, he steeled his heart, opened the door, and walked out.

He believed it to be the conclusion.

He had never shown humility to anyone in his life. This woman had deceived him repeatedly. He saw no need to continue pressuring her.

Marcus desired her in her entirety, not just a frail acceptance.

The door swung open and then closed.

A chill breeze entered, triggering violent coughs in Melissa. Her complexion turned unusually crimson, and the coughing persisted.

Hastily donning a shirt, she stumbled out of bed to pour a glass of warm water.

Sipping half the glass, a modicum of relief washed over her.