NovelEnglishChapter 763
Marguerite,
As | pen this letter, you're lying in bed, casting a smile my way. Though you're
within an arm's reach, | find myself crazily missing you.
Sounds paradoxical, doesn't it?
| guess I'm a bit of a Jekyll and Hyde. Prone to outbursts, then suddenly
indifferent. And towards you, it's no different.
Do you think I'm a bad boy?
Even after three years, | still can't muster the courage to admit I'm insanely in love
with you.
I'm a coward, afraid of repeating past mistakes, yet, like a spy, | keep probing you, over and over again.
Alright, | confess, | am that spy.
The one eager to uncover every secret hidden within your heart.
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| yearn to know everything about you, to know if your love forburns as
fervently as mine does for you.
Marguerite, staying back at the Winston Mansion has been both my happiest and most agonizing time.
Happy, because | no longer need to rely on snippets from others to know about you. | can openly observe you.
Agonizing, because | dreaded Maurice's contact with you.
| feared him holding your hand, wrapping his arm around your waist, everything he did to you.
Seeing him walk alongside Teresa and you, my jealousy would spiral out of control.
Why couldn't that be me? After all, Teresa is my child, and I, the only man who has ever possessed you.
So, why can't we stand in the sunlight like any normal couple?
Yet now, having you back feels like a treasure regained. But greedy as | am, | want more.
| covet your body and soul, your clear eyes and peaceful face.
| long for you to lean on my arm, rest your head on my shoulder, and in a playful tone say, "I'm so hungry, can
you feed me?"
Do you findrepulsive? But that's just me.
If I can't have what | want in reality, is it too much to ask for a few vivid dreams?
When | open my eyes, it's you. When | close them, it's still you. Everything within reach is you.
Yet, by the tyou unfold this letter, | have no idea where I'll be.
Heaven or hell? Let it be.
What difference does it make without you? Every day would still be filled with agony.
Marguerite, as | write this, you've already drifted off to sleep before me.
And | feel sincerely happy.
Your return with Hayes and Teresa has givennew hope.
We must remember, life isn't eternal, but love is.
So please, carry my love with you and let our story continue forever.
Marguerite,
May your heart be as resilient as the greenest plants, always reaching for the sunlight.
The lingering clouds have finally parted, and sunlight envelops Marguerite in a golden glow.
Tears stream down her face as she remembers waking from a dream days ago, to find Frederick fervently writing
at his desk.
Could it be that he had foreseen this very moment?
He knew Teresa was his child, how could he ever raise a gun to her?
Lies!
It was all Maurice's lies!
But how could she explain the contract?
Marguerite couldn't understand, letting her tears fall freely.
Where could he be? She desperately wanted to see him!
Marguerite cried until she was spent, her heart aching as if it were being torn apart.
Meanwhile, outside, the servants were unexpectedly in an uproar, scrambling downstairs in a panic.
"It's all gone pear-shaped! The boss is livid!"
"What's happened?"
"Word is, the Marquess and his daughter were found at Mistvale Stream! Their wounds were so severe, there was
no sign of life left in them! The sheriff called the boss to identify the bodies!"
In that moment, Marguerite felt as if her soul had left her body.
Despite her modest English skills, she miraculously understood every word, every single syllable the servants
uttered.
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