“Look at me now. My appearance displeases, does it not? By resting next door, my unappealing


    countenance won’t vex your sight. The physician said it would take days to recover.”


    In the face of Millie’s forlorn and inquiring eyes, Marcus underwent a sudden enlightenment.


    She believed he harbored an aversion to her ruddy and pimpledplexion.


    Tenderly, Marcus reassured her in a hushed voice, “Your appearance doesn’t trouble me. Let go of the


    quilt and get some rest.”


    Astonishingly, it seemed that Millie’s assumption was misguided. Marcus was unaffected by her


    appearance. Passing her, he deposited a ss of milk on the nightstand.


    “Consume some milk before sleeping. It aids in restfulness.”


    Within Millie, a warmth blossomed as she realized that she had misunderstood him. He hadn’t recoiled;


    rather, he had procured milk from the kitchen, a gesture steeped in care.


    Millie stowed the quilt back into the wardrobe, closing the distance between herself and Marcus, her


    voice a soft inquiry.


    “Darling, are you truly unaffected by my appearance?” She pondered his habitually immacte attire,


    believing her present countenance might difort him.


    “In the event of an allergy happening to me, would you recoil and relegate me to the guest room?”


    Marcus locked eyes with her, seeking truth in her gaze.


    She wouldn’t. True love entailed sharing every facet of life, embracing both the triumphs and the


    tribtions, appearance included.


    “Honey, I love you.”


    Ang’s Library


    In Millie’s crystal eyes, a radiant smile took form.


    Marcus prompted, “Go and have some milk.”


    After imbibing the milk, Millie nestled into bed. Amidst dreams, she found herself enveloped in a firm


    embrace.


    Observing Millie’s peaceful slumber, Marcus’ gaze shifted downward, tenderly lifting the hem of her


    clothing, revealing an unexpected sight. Pimples of the same fiery hue adorned her skin.


    His furrowed brow wasn’t born of disgust but ofpassion. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to


    her hair.


    As dawn broke, Millie awoke, her arm the subject of her immediate scrutiny.


    s, no miraculous vanishing of red pimples had urred.


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    A message requesting leave was swiftlyposed and dispatched to Rosie.


    Seated at the breakfast table, a pall of despondency hung over Millie.


    Hindered by office attendance, she now faced a day of remote design work. A waiting client added


    urgency to her tasks.


    “Rest well at home. I’m off to the office.” Marcus checked his watch.