Chapter 781

“The chains of weariness have enshrouded me of late,” Marcus replied, weariness painted upon his

tone. “His counsel was one of respite, fearing my relentless labor might cause dire consequence.”

Yet Millie sensed a nuance beyond the surface. Marcus bore within him a concealed narrative, a story

yet untold.

Facing the clarity in Millie’s eyes, Marcus felt a pang of melancholy. He hated lying, but it was an illness

without a cure.

His countenance remained resolute before Millie, a facade meant to shield her from his fragility. His

desire was unwavering—to spare her the weight of his concerns.

“Let’s head back. As you see, I’m hale and hearty,” he declared, his words buoyant in an attempt to

dispel Millie’s burgeoning concern.

An inkling of consternation creased Millie’s brow.

Their path led them past a charming bookstore. Millie, seized by a literary yearning, declared her

intention to procure a book. Marcus, ever the companion, joined her within the quaint emporium. Amid

the shelves and aisles, they sought their quarry until Millie emerged victorious, clutching “The Memory

Loss Brain.”

After the transaction was complete, they retreated to their vehicle. Millie nestled the acquisition upon

her lap, and as Marcus navigated, his gaze grazed the cerebral illustration adoring the book’s cover.

“What prompts this selection?” queried Marcus, his curiosity kindled by the enigmatic title.

“simple curiosity compels me,” Millie replied, veiling her deeper musings. A suspicion had sprouted

within her—a seed of memory loss, a harbinger of forgotten fragments.

Otherwise, how could that photograph have slipped through the grasp of her mind?

Marcus drove fast back to the hotel soon.

Post-shower, Millie sank into the sofa’s embrace, the book before her. Marcus, post-shower as well,

assumed a position beside her.

As the pages turned, Millie sought refuge in knowledge. And in due course, her head found its reprieve

upon Marcus’ shoulder.

“Beloved, might it be that I’m adrift in the sea of forgotten recollections?” Millie’s words were tender and

vulnerable in their confession.

A fleeting tension gripped Marcus. What hidden knowledge did Millie possess? This very selection of

book roused his suspicions.

“You suspect memory loss?” he inquired, his voice touched by trepidation.

“somewhat,” Millie replied, casting her eyes to the awaiting page.

“As elucidated within these pages, four facets of amnesia unfurl: localized, continuous, selective, and

total. Presently, a specter of localized amnesia haunts my thoughts, unbeknownst to me,” she

continued, a tinge of uncertainty woven within her words.

Unbeknownst to her, her revelations carved an indentation into Marcus’ armrest, an emblem of the

turmoil within.

“The hour grows late. Slumber beckons,” Marcus proposed, his voice a harbinger of reprieve.

With gentle resolve, he reclaimed the book from Millie’s grasp, gathering her into his arms. Thus, they

retreated to the realm of dreams.