That night, Marco Griffin didn’t sleep well.
Following the doctor’s advice, he took the prescribed sleeping pills. Yet, despite them, he found himself lost in a labyrinth of dreams.
In his dream, his younger self was curled up inside a wardrobe. His mother's voice came from the other side of the door, soothing and coaxing, "Little Marco, mommy's coming to get you. I’ll find you soon."
The fear and terror he felt turned into tears streaming down his cheeks. Clutching his knees with one hand and desperately covering his mouth with the other, Marco tried to suppress any sound.
The gentler her voice became, the more it filled him with dread. "Stop playing hide and seek, come out and I'll take you to see daddy, okay?"
Suddenly, the wardrobe doors flung open, and blinding sunlight streamed through the windows, catching Marco in the face, leaving him nowhere to hide.
His mother smiled, taking his hand in a warm voice, "Got you, now let's go find daddy."
Little Marco cried even harder, pulling back, trying to wrestle free from her grip. Her demeanor twisted into something frightening as she tightened her hold on him, tears brimming in her eyes. She demanded, "Why are you afraid to see your dad? Why won't you help me? Why do you all want to separate me from my husband?!"
The commotion attracted others in the mansion. A woman dressed like someone out of a Victorian novel burst onto the scene, slapping Marco's mother across the face. She clutched little Marco protectively, unleashing a tirade, "Even a tigress wouldn't harm her own cubs! That beast Hawk Griffin will destroy my grandson, you idiot! What have I done to deserve a daughter like you?!"
His mother shook her head frantically, urgently explaining, "No, no, that's not it. Hawk wouldn't harm little Marco. He's just too angry. Once he calms down, he'll forgive me. Everything will be fine. He won’t bring up divorce again."
The dream shifted, now showing little Marco’s head being forcibly pushed underwater in a swimming pool. Endless water filled his lungs, and no matter how he struggled, he couldn’t escape the grip on his head. The man who promised to teach him to swim whispered with malice, "Your mother's actions destroyed the one I loved most. So I will take away what she loves, so she knows the pain of loss."
Little Marco's strength faded, his eyes closed, and he stopped fighting.
There was a splash, someone had jumped in, pulling him free from Hawk's grip. He drifted in and out of consciousness, hearing a familiar voice gently calling, "Mr. Griffin, do you want to kiss me? Wake up, and I’ll let you take a bite."
Marco snapped awake, sitting up abruptly.
The room was shrouded in darkness, yet he could still see Gwendolyn Morris’ smiling face from the first time they met.
She was playfully pinching Joey’s nose, telling him, "Joey, it's time to go home."
"Time to go home."
"Time to go home."
Why did even someone like Joey, who got so drunk that other women had to take him home, still have a place to call home? And yet, Marco felt forever alone.
A bitter resentment filled him—towards everything, towards every couple in love, towards the absence of anyone who truly loved him.
In the shadows, his eyes burned like those of a cornered animal. It took a long while for the night to calm his turbulent emotions. Closing his eyes, he shook away the image of Gwendolyn.
He had made his decision to end this charade. Though not a good man, he wasn’t cruel enough to hurt someone like her, who had already been through so much.
Reaching for his phone on the bedside table, he opened WhatsApp. What had she said earlier that evening? Oh yes, she hoped tonight would be their last meeting.
Marco let out a humorless chuckle, typing a single word in reply: "Alright."
As soon as he hit send, a large red exclamation mark popped up on his phone screen.
He couldn't help but laugh in frustration, "Dammit!"
