Love Burned, She Rose Unscathed

Murray stormed into his room, his mind a whirlwind of emotion. He yanked open the wardrobe and headed for Roseanne's walk-in closet. He found all her designer bags, clothes, and even the neatly arranged jewelry and watches he had gifted her over the years. Nothing was missing.

His eyes landed on a cherry charm bracelet, and his breathing became erratic, his gaze fiery. He remembered vividly it was a present he had brought back from abroad for her on their third anniversary. The word "cherry" was akin to "cherish" in his heart, symbolizing how much he treasured her.

She used to wear it all the time, hardly taking it off. And she had left it behind as if she was discarding her love for him piece by piece.

Murray flopped onto the bed, realization dawning on him. Roseanne wasn't just in a mood-she meant every word. She truly wanted to break up with him.

...

Downstairs, Sadie heard a loud crash and instantly sprinted upstairs. As she reached the doorway, she brushed past Murray, storming out with a thunderous expression.

"Mr. Sherwood..." she called out, wanting to ask what had happened, but Murray just walked away without looking back.

Turning her head, Sadie almost couldn't catch her breath at the sight. Murray had the luxurious jewelry cabinet smashed to bits, clothes with tags still attached strewn about, and the Bohemian rug was a mess. It was a sight too painful to behold.

Sadie recalled how she had cleaned the kitchen after disposing of the spoiled oatmeal and then faced with another mess to tidy up.

Sadie sighed, "Dear God, could he cut me some slack?"

...

The club was blasting with wild lights and corny songs, filled with scantily dressed guys and girls dancing like crazy in the center.

Murray was off to the side, drowning his sorrows in drink. He had ordered a bottle of whiskey, gulping it down not for enjoyment but as a form of release.

The dim lights cast a shadow over his handsome features, adding a layer of mystery and allure. Women passing by were drawn to his charisma, ignoring the chilly aura he exuded, edging closer with interest.

"Hey, handsome, drinking alone is so boring. Let me join you." Wearing an off-the-shoulder top, the woman leaned forward, revealing a glimpse of her cleavage, a sight most men would linger on.

However, Murray glared at her coldly and snapped, "Get lost!"

His deep, intimidating gaze made the woman back off, too scared to stay.

After dismissing the unwanted attention, Murray returned to his drink. He was almost through with the bottle of whiskey when he glimpsed a familiar figure. He

chased after her, calling out, "Rose..."

The woman turned around, her shock quickly changing to a flirty smile as she moved closer. "Were you looking for me, handsome?"

Realizing his mistake, Murray frowned and withdrew his hand. Roseanne would never act so boldly.

"Sorry, wrong person," he said.

Disappointed, the woman muttered as she watched him walk away. "Turns down a sure thing. What kind of man is he?"

Fed up with the club's sleazy atmosphere, Murray finished his drink, grabbed his coat, and headed for the exit.

Just then, a familiar voice stopped him.

"Murray!" York slapped him on the back excitedly. "When did you get here? Why didn't you tell the boys? We've got a private room upstairs. Come on, let's have a drink together."Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.