Once, my paranoid love

Maid guided me through a series of unfamiliar hallways until we arrived at a room. It was the same chamber where I had changed earlier in the day, and I couldn’t help but admire the transformation it had undergone in such a short time.

The room was adorned with tasteful decorations, a testament to the efficiency and attention to detail that characterized Mr. Huston’s household. I took a moment to appreciate the aesthetic choices that adorned the space, each element reflecting a sense of refinement and elegance.

The warm lighting cast a gentle glow, creating an atmosphere of serenity within the room. Soft draperies framed the windows, allowing filtered sunlight to stream in, further enhancing the room’s inviting ambiance.

My gaze was drawn to a comfortable-looking chair placed near a small table adorned with delicate refreshments. It seemed that every detail had been considered to ensure my comfort during my stay.

A sense of intrigue washed over me, accompanied by a healthy dose of apprehension. I couldn’t help but wonder why I had been brought to this room and what lay ahead in this carefully prepared setting.

The young lady who had escorted me stood politely, her expression giving nothing away. It was clear that she was here to fulfill her role in this mysterious encounter, but I couldn’t discern her intentions.

As I took in the room once more, my thoughts circled back to Mr. Huston. What did he hope to achieve by bringing me here? Did he want me to play the wife role?

“Please, ma’am, take a rest. Sir will be here shortly,” that maid said, leaving me alone in the room. The young maid’s words hung in the air as she left me alone in the lavishly decorated room. Her demeanor had been respectful, yet an underlying tension lingered in the atmosphere.

As I sat on the edge of the ornate bed, the luxurious fabrics beneath me served as a stark contrast to the simple life I had known until recently. The room, though opulent, felt foreign and imposing, like a gilded cage.

Despite having indulged in a rejuvenating bath earlier in the day, I found myself sweating profusely. The emotions swirling within me, a concoction of anxiety, curiosity, and trepidation, were conspiring to elevate my heart rate to a breakneck pace.

I needed a breath of fresh air, a moment of respite from the palpable tension that seemed to thicken with each passing minute. With determined strides, I made my way to the window, my fingers trembling slightly as they grasped the ornate curtains.Content is © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

As I pulled the curtains apart, a rush of cool evening air greeted me, carrying with it the scent of blooming flowers from the well-tended gardens below. The sky outside was gradually darkening, and the horizon was painted with a breathtaking array of colors, transitioning from the warm oranges and pinks of the setting sun to the deepening blues of twilight.

I gazed out, momentarily captivated by the beauty of the scene, a stark contrast to the turmoil within me. The serenity of nature offered a brief respite from the whirlwind of emotions that had accompanied me on this unexpected journey.

Just as I was beginning to collect my thoughts and find solace in the view, I was abruptly startled by the sound of footsteps echoing behind me. My heart, already racing, skipped a beat as I turned swiftly to confront the unexpected intrusion.

I was afraid to glance back, and my heart stopped for a moment. The sound of the door locking sent a shiver down my spine, intensifying my unease. I remained rooted in place, unable to tear my gaze away from the locked door, a growing sense of vulnerability consumed me.

As I finally mustered the courage to turn around, my eyes fell upon the back of a man, his shoulders broad and imposing. The tension in the room seemed to magnify as he slowly pivoted to face me. Our gazes met, and for a fleeting moment, time itself seemed to stand still.

There was something strangely familiar about those gray eyes-a sense of deja vu that sent a jolt of recognition through me. I felt a strange connection, as if I should know this man, yet the memory remained elusive, dancing just out of reach.

Unsure of how to proceed, I averted my gaze, momentarily finding solace in studying the room’s opulent decor. I had heard rumors that Mr. Huston was an elderly gentleman, an image that had taken root in my mind. However, the reality before me contradicted those expectations.

The man who stood before me was not the elderly figure I had envisioned. Instead, he exuded an undeniable air of youthfulness and attractiveness. His presence seemed to command the room, and it left me questioning the nature of the arrangement into which I had been thrust.

With each passing moment, the silence in the room became more profound, the weight of unspoken questions hanging heavily in the air. My heart continued to race, and my mind was racing to make sense of this unexpected turn of events. But those gray eyes locked on me, and I could feel the intensity.

**

Time seemed to slow as he watched her. A rush of emotions flooded his heart, and his thoughts raced like a tumultuous storm.

‘Elena, is it you?’ Derek’s inner voice whispered in disbelief. He couldn’t believe his eyes; he couldn’t believe the twists of fate that had brought them here, face-to-face. His heart started to race, pounding in his chest like a drum in a chaotic rhythm.

It was her, unmistakably. The same graceful figure, the same chestnut hair that fell in waves around her shoulders, and the same hauntingly familiar eyes. It was Elena, his wife-the woman he had married.

“M-Mr. Houston,” she stammered, her voice quivering with shock and surprise. Hearing her voice, hearing her say his name, jolted Derek back to reality. He realized he was staring, his mouth slightly agape.

Derek cleared his throat and took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. “Yes,” he replied, his voice steady but laced with uncertainty.