Mrs. Marsh's Revealed Identities

Chapter 1414

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Chapter 1414: Only One Room Left

Then, Tristan led Monica towards the inn they had reserved earlier in the day. It was late at night, and even with the lamplights,

visibility was not as good as during the day.

As they descended the steps, Tristan said, "Watch your step." He reached out and took her hand, holding it tightly. For the first time

in the past several hours, his heart returned to Monica.

Monica's chest tightened, unsure if it was joy or sorrow. She glanced at him, then followed his pace. His face was handsand

elegant, more attractive than any male celebrity in the entertainment industry.

Her hand was held firmly in his palm, their warmth intertwined. He slowed down, considering she was wearing high heels, and

didn't let go even after they had descended the steps. For a brief moment, Monica felt like it was all surreal.

Tristan led her to the riverside inn not far away. The girl's brows furrowed slightly, her expression calm and still, neither sad nor

happy. She was truly exhausted, both physically and emotionally.

The navigation ended.

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Tristan stopped and said to the girl beside him, "This is the place." He looked up to double-check the sign. All the inns along the

street looked almost identical from the outside.

"Okay." Monica also looked up and noted the inn's nand the unique features at the entrance, such as the two pots of lush

money plants placed on either side.

Tristan pushed open the glass door with his other hand and said, "Watch your step." He led her inside. Under the bright indoor

lighting, they looked like a happy couple, hand in hand.

The innkeeper immediately cto greet them, smiling and handing over a room card. "Mr. Norwell, this is your room card, Room

303."

Tristan released Monica's hand and took the card. "Just one?"

"Isn't one card enough for two people?" The innkeeper smiled and replied, "I thought you'd be going in and out together. Security

hasn't been great lately, but if you need two cards, we can provide them."

As he was about to turn around and fetch another card, Tristan grabbed his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. Tristan frowned

slightly, "You mean... you only prepared one room for us?"

The innkeeper looked puzzled, glancing back and forth between the two. "..." He didn't know what to say. They had just walked in

holding hands, so wasn't one room appropriate? Who would book separate rooms for a couple on vacation?

Monica felt a bit embarrassed and stood to the side, biting her lip without saying anything.

Tristan told the innkeeper, "Give us another room."

"Huh?" The innkeeper looked surprised, then quickly apologized, "I'm sorry, but all the rooms are occupied. There are no

vacancies."

Hearing this, Monica turned to Tristan, and Tristan also looked at her. He quickly looked outside the door.

At this moment, the innkeeper said to him, "Mr. Norwell, there are no rooms available on this entire street. Believe me, there's

going to be a grand food festival here in a few days, attracting foodies from all over the country."

"..." Tristan's expression remained calm.

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He regretted not booking two rooms in the first place. Reservations now required real-nregistration, and he didn't have her ID

number at the time. He thought he could add it later, but Claire's situation had delayed them.

Monica had been standing for a while, her legs sore and tired. She just wanted to sleep.

Tristan looked at her, caressed her head, and said, "So... make do for tonight?" He glanced at her legs. "You must be exhausted.

You can sleep on the bed, and I'll sleep on the sofa."

She pursed her lips, lowered her eyes, and didn't refuse.

What other choice did she have? They were already in this situation.

Seeing that she didn't refuse, Tristan asked the innkeeper, "Do you have any medicine for sprains and bruises?"

"Yes." He quickly turned to fetch it.

Tristan took the bottle, "I'll return it tomorrow, thanks." Then, he took Monica's hand again and led her toward the wooden

staircase.

Monica's heart felt a mix of bitterness and warmth, no longer calm. She was a bit afraid to look into his eyes.

His palm was so warm and seemed to have a magical power.

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Mrs. Marsh's Revealed Identities

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