**Silent Roads Remember by Sawyer**
**Chapter 76**
Since the day he crossed into adulthood, Titus had firmly resolved never to let his guard down. The echoes of his father’s stern teachings reverberated in his mind: one must conceal their authentic feelings and desires; self-mastery was the price one paid for success.
For years, he had adhered to this doctrine with unwavering commitment, never allowing himself a moment of weakness—even after tying the knot with Chiara. Discipline had always been his ally, yet recently, he sensed a crack in his armor. A creeping vulnerability began to seep through, unsettling him in ways he could hardly comprehend.
“Tell me, did you miss me?” Titus’s voice cut through the air with an unexpected sharpness.
Those words tumbled out just as Paul and Lena crossed the threshold, halting them in their tracks like deer caught in headlights.
Titus shot them a frosty glare, and just then, Chiara’s voice crackled through the phone line—nervous and stammering, each syllable laced with tension.
“I-I think it’s getting late. I should go to bed,” she stuttered before hastily disconnecting the call with a click that resonated in the silence.
Paul recognized Chiara’s voice immediately, though it seemed tinged with an unfamiliar edge tonight. Yet, the icy, menacing look Titus directed at him made Paul gulp, his throat suddenly dry and constricted.
His gaze drifted to the disarray on the coffee table, and he understood all too well what he had just interrupted. Without a word, he spun around and quickly shut the door behind him, seeking refuge from the tension that hung thick in the air.
As the door clicked into place, Paul felt a wave of relief wash over him. But before he could fully exhale, he turned around and froze once more.
Lena stood mere inches away, her complexion as pale as a sheet, her eyes wide with shock.
In that moment, Paul’s mind short-circuited. A tingling sensation crawled across his scalp—he felt more unsettled than ever. ‘It would have been bad enough if it were just me witnessing this. But now Lena’s seen Titus like this too.’
Frustration boiled within him, a simmering rage that made him feel as if he could lash out at anyone.
“Lena, you said Mr. Goodman was drunk?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady, even as he thought, ‘Drunk? No, this isn’t drunkenness—this is lovesickness, plain and simple.’
Lena finally snapped back to reality, her wide eyes locked onto Paul, her mind racing as it replayed the scene they had just stumbled upon.
Titus had been sprawled out on the couch, his legs extended, shirt untucked, and hair tousled. The coffee table was littered with crumpled tissues—evidence of a solitary struggle with his emotions.
But what truly left Lena in shock was the realization that Titus had been flirting with someone on the other end of that phone call.
‘Who was that woman? Could it be Elaine? No, that doesn’t sound like Elaine at all. Seriously, who was she?’
Lena glanced at Paul’s grim expression, and before she could stop herself, she blurted out, “Paul, is there a woman with Mr. Goodman?”
Paul’s brows knitted together, concern etched into his features. Seeing Lena so devastated and lost, he understood she was at a breaking point—she might never recover from this revelation. He didn’t bother hiding his frustration this time. “There’s always been someone,” he said bluntly.
Lena’s eyes widened in disbelief, her heart racing. “What? Who is she? How come I never knew about this?”
Paul thought, ‘Seriously? She has no idea where she stands. Who does she think she is? Elaine might be gossip-worthy, but Chiara is a secret—no one is supposed to know she exists.’
He was done wasting his breath on Lena’s naïveté. Tonight had turned into an unfortunate detour into her drama, and he wanted out. “Who it is isn’t your business,” he snapped, striding away to his room.
Lena was left standing there, alone, her face drained of color as she stared at the closed door. She clenched her fists so tightly that her nails bit into her skin, her thoughts a chaotic whirlwind.
She had always exercised caution, never daring to overstep boundaries, convinced that Titus was the type who would never engage in messy affairs or be entangled with scandalous women.
But now, Paul’s words echoed in her mind—there had always been another woman in Titus’s life. The revelation shattered her, making her feel as though the very foundation of her world had crumbled beneath her feet.
Biting her lip, she glared at the closed door, resentment swirling in her eyes.
‘Why is it someone else? Why can’t it be me? I would relinquish everything—my name, my status, my pride—just to stand beside him. Why can’t it be me?’
In that moment, Lena felt trapped, as if she had cornered herself with no escape.
When a woman finds herself unable to claim the man she loves, she either spirals into madness or transforms into something monstrous.
Meanwhile, after hanging up, Chiara lay awake in bed, her heart racing. Each time she closed her eyes, Titus’s low, alluring voice echoed in her mind.
Time slipped away as she tossed and turned, and only when dawn began to break did she finally succumb to sleep—only to be ensnared in a vivid dream.
The following morning, Chiara jolted upright in bed, her heart pounding fiercely. She reached out for the empty space beside her—no one was there. Yet, it all felt so real, as if the events of the night before had truly unfolded.


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