Love Burned, She Rose Unscathed

Cliff nodded generously, "Yeah, I stay in touch with Roseanne quite a bit. What's up?"

York narrowed his eyes, as if he could see through everything, "I know what you're getting at."

"Whether it's me and Roseanne keeping in touch, or my willingness to lend her a hand today, you're wondering if it's because of your connection to her, or if it's all about Roseanne herself." York paused, then continued, "Let me be clear, it's all about Roseanne herself, and it has nothing to do with you. Cliff feels the same way." Murray frowned.NôvelDrama.Org owns this text.

"Why?"

York chuckled, "Isn't it all about give and take between people? You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours, and that's how relationships are built."

"You think Roseanne's just been a shadow to you these past six years? We meet up at least a couple of times a month, right? We've had plenty of chances to get to know her."

"Take Cliff, for instance. If I'm not mistaken, didn't Roseanne help you out with your computer, even wrote some software for you?"

"Yeah!" Cliff nodded vigorously, "Roseanne's a wizard with coding. That time I nearly got screwed over with financial shenanigans on a project investment, it was Roseanne who wrote an auto-accounting software that helped me sort out that mess." "And then there was that time..."

Cliff went on and on, but the more Murray listened, the more confused he became.

The "Roseanne" they were talking about, was she really the same person as the "Roseanne" he remembered, who would always wait for him to come home and meticulously plan everything for him?

Cliff added, "And don't forget, Roseanne's helped you out too..."

"Cough!" York interrupted, "That's enough, I'm off. You guys should head home too."

With that, he quickly jumped into a taxi.

"Let's go, driver."

...

Roseanne got a contact request from York and quickly added him.

The request was immediately accepted, triggering an automatic message-

"Hello, if you're an author, please leave your manuscript and contact

information. If you're looking to."

collaborate, for urgent matters, please call 1372324..."

Roseanne thought for a moment, then picked out a suspense novel she had written last year, sent it over in a Word document, and left her phone number.

Maybe it was too late, but there was no reply on the other side.

She didn't mind much, figuring a response might come in a couple of days.

The night grew deeper, and Murray arrived home.

As expected, Millie was standing at the door, smiling like a hostess at a fancy dinner party.

He couldn't help but admire her perseverance.

As Millie reached out to help him, the smell of alcohol on him nearly knocked her over.

Murray called for Sadie, the housekeeper, to help him upstairs.

Truth be told, he had only had a couple of drinks and was far from drunk.

But pretending to be drunk meant Millie wouldn't cling to him, putting on an act and babbling on and on.

So, pretending to be drunk was the better option.

Sadie quickly helped him upstairs to the master bedroom, then went back down to make a hangover cure.

"Sadie, I heard you practically raised Murray?" Millie, wearing her pajamas, stood in the kitchen, trying to chat with Sadie.

"Ms. Millie did you need something?

The

sn't safe for guests.ne

Maybe you should go to the living

room, or back to your room to rest."

Basically, anywhere but here buzzing around me!

Millie acted as if she hadn't heard, still smiling, "You must have made him this hangover cure plenty of times, then?"

Sadie replied, "Not really, back when Ms. Cole was around, she used to handle these things. The young master preferred her cooking." As Sadie turned to grab a bowl, Millie swiftly poured a powder she had been clutching in her hand into the pot.