Melissa stood up and walked over to him.

Gently holding the wine bottle, she said, "Go grab two glasses."

But Marcus stopped her. "You don't have to pretend to be calm in front of me. There's no need for that. And that man... I know you don't like him and even hate him, but it's completely understandable that you would be emotional after hearing his death. You don't have to pretend to be indifferent. It's just me here.”

Melissa looked up at him, her chest tightening.

Gently, he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her.

Marcus kissed her hair softly and whispered. “I'm here for you, and I want you to always remember that."

Almost as if in a trance, Melissa said, “Somehow, I don't know, but... It feels so surreal..."

A crease appeared between Marcus’ brows.

He suddenly picked her up, carrying her to their bedroom and pushing her down on the bed. Melissa didn't resist. Maybe they could both use an outlet, and this was the simplest way to get release.

She held him tight, answering his hot kisses. Her teeth sank on his shoulder when he got too rough.

Marcus lowered his head, his forehead lined in sweat as he panted.

His low and smooth voice echoed in her ears. "How about now? Does it still feel surreal?"

After their sex, both of them were sweating buckets. Marcus, with his arm snug around Melissa's waist, pulled the thin blanket over her.

Their breathing slowly eased.

Whispering behind her, Marcus asked, "Are you feeling any better now?"

Melissa nestled her face into a white pillow, giving it a gentle rub.

Noticing her silence, Marcus pressed on, “Are you perhaps feeling shy now?"

"Why should I be? This is comfy," Melissa retorted.

Marcus nodded, satisfied with her honesty.

They cuddled in silence for a bit before Melissa turned around. "I'm famished."