Chapter 13 Chapter Twelve

When I opened my eyes again, I saw D.To be precise, he kissed me awake. "Good morning, Odell." He gave me a charming smile. I rubbed my eyes and saw that it was still dark outside the window.The golden fingers of dawn had just brushed over the horizon, revealing a pale white light in the east.It was still dark. "I'm going to hide quickly." He blinked and gave me another kiss, "Say goodbye to you." I looked at him straight in the face, completely unmoved by his tenderness. "Where were you last night?" I asked. He visibly froze. "I've been here all the time." He said, "Audrey, have you forgotten that we..."

"I haven't forgotten." I stroked the healed wound on my neck, stared into his eyes, and considered my words, "I mean, where did you go after that? Because I woke up last night You weren't there when." "Honey, did you have a nightmare?" He smiled and patted my head, and told me in a very affirmative tone, "I was here last night, and I was by your side." He left the room at sunrise.I stared blankly at his non-existent shadow.I know he's lying.He is lying to me.Because I haven't seen Sebastian, or rather, Morpheus, since I woke up on Dover Beach.

I didn't have any more dreams. I don't know why he lied to me.All I know is that it wasn't a good start, or that something was over.Satan, how long have we been married?a month?two months?I am ridiculously reminded of the women's magazines I read before, which warned all girls not to fall in love quickly, at least, not to enter the door of marriage immediately.Because you don't know him yet.I suddenly discovered that my knowledge of D is still zero.Everything ended with the end of the Halloween ball. Although I have been living with him for more than half a year, he still wears the original mask.

It occurred to me that when I was out with them yesterday, Heath asked me why I didn't go buy a mask.I think that's why.I already have one of the most exquisite masks in the world, using charm and spells as silk, condensing sweet words into gems, and weaving them with skillful hands, it is completely natural.What more mask do I need?No matter how hard I try, I can't see the face behind his mask.I can't see his heart. He has always been like a controller, taking advantage of my infatuation and innocence, and repeatedly manipulating me in the palm of his hand.And I was like his obedient marionette, a sad and ridiculous puppet, who would not raise any objections or ask why, but just followed him blindly, let him manipulate, and was fooled by him.Yes, he gave me a so-called promise, he gave me a status, a home, a luxurious residence, a comfortable life - no, this is not what I want.Not at all.

My head still hurts and I have a hangover giddiness.And I'm starving.Dazed, I opened the door, intending to go upstairs for breakfast. Something tripped me on the bottom of my foot.I looked down and saw the dry cleaning bag outside the door.It was still early, and the hotel waiter hadn't had time to take it away. As if driven by something, I bent down and lifted the bag, unzipped the elastic, and pulled out D's freshly replaced shirt.I felt like a thief, or worse, a pathetic wretch trying to find evidence of my husband's infidelity. But nothing.I buried my head in the shirt, but it didn't smell like the strange perfume I imagined, and it didn't have any ridiculous lip marks.There was only a faint smell of blood - as usual - that was evidence that he had "dined".But even this smell is so familiar that there is not even the slightest bit of envy about it, because it is my own breath.My perfume, shampoo, skin cream, foundation, and my own blood.Yes, he wore that shirt with me last night.Maybe he didn't lie to me, maybe he did sleep with me in his arms, maybe he really didn't go anywhere, maybe the truth was that I had a dream - no, I don't believe it.

A card fell out of a shirt pocket.I bent down and picked it up. A small business card with a good texture, in a yellowish color that is deliberately worn out, classic and elegant, with a strange mask printed on it, and a store name in Italian: "La Bottega dei Mascareri". The literal translation is: the shop of the mask maker, or more simply, the mask shop.But who would use this as a store name?The most famous thing here is the mask, and there are hundreds of mask shops on the entire island of Venice. The address on the business card is 80 San Polo, Rialto Bridge. So when Emily asked me at breakfast where I was going today, I said the place without thinking.

"That bridge? Didn't we pass by boat yesterday?" Thanks to Satan, she was right this time for the first time. "There are many shops over there, I want to buy a mask." I prevaricated. "Don't you buy souvenirs?" Heath just happened to come over and heard our conversation.He winked at me and made a face. "I've changed my mind." I pretended to smile, showing a look of regret, "Isn't it in vain to come to Venice without buying a mask?" "Then you won't go to Lido Island with us today?" Emily sighed regretfully, "I thought you would come together!"

"No, I hope you have fun." I shrugged my shoulders without regret, hoping that this nervous girl didn't find out what I really thought.In fact, if she finds out, she will know how much I don't want to hang out with them.But she didn't notice, she just took the glass of orange juice handed over by Xiao S, and then the two sat down, took a map, and began to discuss the travel route later. There are not many people in the restaurant.While waiting for the bread to be baked, I turned my head and saw that the old couple from France were still drinking tea at the same place yesterday. Sensing my gaze, the old man nodded friendly to me.And the Aussie who was always causing trouble was gone.

"That guy checked out." Heath stood in front of the toaster and handed me two slices of toast. "I saw him when I went upstairs." "How long are you going to live?" I took the plate, but didn't walk away. "What about you?" Heath took two slices of bread from the bag and put them into the toaster, then turned his head and looked at me with a half-smile. I didn't expect him to ask me this.In fact, I don't know how long we will live.Because everything is arranged by D, destination, itinerary and hotel, he easily controls everything as usual, but I am just his puppet who wants to cover up, secretive and ready to welcome.

So I froze there, not knowing how to answer him. Heath smiled, "Whenever you leave, we will leave." There was a light sound behind him, and two slices of baked bread automatically jumped out of the bread machine.Heath turned back, put his toast on a plate, and left.