Sickly? Husband's Contractual Wife

SHCW

Chapter 72

 

“Why are you here?”

 

I nearly jumped at the unexpected voice, almost falling flat on my face.

 

“Huh? Um, what?”

 

When I lifted my head, Rona came into view.

 

“Did I startle you?”

 

Looking at me squatting next to the chair, Rona had a puzzled expression.

 

“No, just… my legs were itching.”

 

I mumbled a vague excuse.

 

“Shall I massage them for you?”

 

“No, it’s okay, really.”

 

I shook my head.

 

“Madam, you’re sweating cold. Are you okay?”

 

Rona, with a worried expression, lifted her sleeve and wiped the sweat from my forehead.

 

“I’m fine, but more importantly…”

 

I scrutinized the area behind Rona.

 

“Amoide, is he gone?”

 

“The master?”

 

“Haven’t you seen Amoide?”

 

“Oh, I saw him on the way here. He left a while ago… huh?”

 

Rona, as she spoke, suddenly stared behind me.

 

Her face looked as if she had seen a ghost.

 

“Why? What’s there?”

 

As I turned around, a chilling voice whispered in my ear.

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

I remained silent.

 

Could a person feel cold from a voice alone?

 

An odd sensation activated, creating an illusion of sharp icicles falling from the voice, almost like a window.

 

“Um…”

 

I sat there with my mouth open, like a stunned fish.

 

“Rona, I have something to discuss with my wife.”

 

A dignified and authoritative voice echoed.

 

The kind of voice that makes you feel as if you have to listen to whatever the person says, making you involuntarily cower.

 

‘Don’t go.’

 

I pleaded with a desperate tone, managing only a timid smile.

 

Rona seemed to grasp the situation as well. A look of ‘Why must I face such trials’ briefly appeared on her face.

 

“…”

 

Rona glanced at me, then back behind me, repeating the process several times, before finally mustering a faint smile.

 

“I’m sorry, Madam.”

 

She apologized and, without giving me a chance to hold her back, rose from her seat.

 

“Well then, sir, have a good time.”

 

And with a quick step, she moved away as if fearing I might grab her.

 

Her steps were so fast that it didn’t take much time for her to appear like a tiny dot in the distance.

 

“Um…”

 

I remained frozen in the same posture, hand extended.

 

A chilling coldness enveloped the surroundings like dry ice.

 

I contemplated the various options available to me.

 

Should I just run away?

 

Pretend not to hear and keep silent?

 

Or maybe…

 

“Don’t dream of escaping.”

 

“…”

 

How did he know?

 

His perception was uncannily fast.

 

What would happen if I tried to flee?

 

Even if I tried to catch up with those long legs of his during normal times, it would be a busy affair.

 

Perhaps I wouldn’t get far before he caught me.

 

“Don’t even think about running away.”

 

“…”

 

How did he know?

 

He seemed to have peered deep into my thoughts.

 

Fleeing was pointless.

 

I’d probably get caught before taking a few steps.

 

“How long are you going to keep this up?”

 

“…”

 

I had a mouth, but no words.

 

I sat there as if paralyzed, wondering if I could even stand up.

 

My legs were already trembling.

 

After all the effort to avoid and ignore, it seemed inevitable that I would collide with him sooner or later.

 

Let’s end it sooner.

 

With a determined resolve, I turned my body.

 

“…”

 

The sunlight accentuated the imposing presence of the man even more.

 

Except for his pale complexion.

 

Suddenly, I realized I was in the shadow he cast.

 

I might get caught before stepping out of this shadow.

 

There was no point in sweating and exerting energy unnecessarily.

 

“Good morning.”

 

“Good morning?”

 

Oh, this wasn’t right.

 

I tried to greet him in a lively manner, but his reaction wasn’t favorable.

 

‘No, what should I say then?’

 

I should have memorized a few appropriate greetings for such situations.

 

“It’s been a while.”

 

Is this also not right?

 

Even though he was backlit by the sunlight, I could still discern that his expression wasn’t favorable.

 

“Yeah, it’s been a while.”

 

And once again, silence.

 

Am I the only one feeling the blood draining from this situation?

 

“Usually, you’re quite talkative. What happened to your usual chattering?”

 

“Am I some kind of parrot? I talk whenever I want.”

 

Unintentionally, my words came out sharp.

 

I turned my head abruptly.

 

Thump, thump.

 

Am I stuttering after a few days of not talking?

 

The awkwardness seemed to have grown during that time.

 

“Don’t avoid eye contact.”

 

I felt a gaze on the back of my head, but I stubbornly remained seated.

 

What can I do if I don’t look? I thought.

 

With the sound of soft soil being stepped on, he approached.

 

Swiftly.

 

Without resistance, I was led by his hand and lifted to my feet.

 

As if picking up a fallen feather from the ground, he slid his hand under my side and lifted me.

 

“Gyaah!”

 

I struggled with my weight draped over his shoulder.

 

“Stay still. If you struggle, I might drop you.”

 

Under his threat, I found myself staring at the ground, lying face down.

 

The ground seemed too far away.

 

Considering his height, when I calculated the physical damage that would be inflicted on my body when I writhed and tumbled to the ground…

 

I decided to stay quiet.

 

“Let me go.”

 

He seemed unwilling to grant my request.

 

“Let me go, and we can talk.”

 

“I don’t want to.”

 

“Why?”

 

Still lying down, I shot him an intense glare.

 

When a faint smile appeared on his lips, my insides twisted.

 

But then, I realized that it was quite ridiculous to glare at him in this state.

 

“Because you might try to run away again.”

 

Looking at me with a resigned expression, he spoke in a low voice.

 

“…”

 

I was speechless, so I closed my mouth.

 

It was just yesterday that I slapped him, who came almost nose to nose.

 

Seeing me like this, Amoide walked to the bench and gently lowered me onto it.

 

He seated me on the bench and took a position in front of me, kneeling with his hands fixed on either side of me, and my legs pressed against his chest.

 

“Uh…”

 

I examined my situation with a helpless look.

 

There was no escape.

 

His long arms extended on either side, and his upper body right in front of me held me in place.

 

I found myself trapped in a prison created by his body.

 

“Amoide.”

 

Looking down at his face from above, it had been quite a while.

 

Sway.

 

A gentle breeze brushed by, tousling his bangs.

 

“Was it nice running around?”

 

I turned my head to meet his gaze.

 

“I’ve never run away.”

 

“Is that so?”

 

“Yes.”

 

His piercing stare felt warmer than the summer sun.

 

“But it seemed really difficult to get a glimpse of your face.”

 

“Well, that’s…”

 

“That’s?”

 

“I was busy.”

 

“What were you so busy with?”

 

“It’s not like I’m just leisurely following you around, you know? I have my own schedule, things to do. I’m busy.”

 

Taking breaths intermittently, I continued speaking.

 

“Since my mother handed over the management of the duke’s household, there’s been a lot to take care of.”

 

That was also true. After temporarily taking over the household responsibilities, I had a lot to handle. Wrestling with ledgers all day, time seemed to slip away unnoticed.

 

“Oh, I see.”

 

He smirked slightly.

 

“Seems like I bothered someone who’s busy.”

 

It was a reprimand veiled in an apology. I felt like I was being pricked by an invisible needle around my chest.

 

The cost of running away for dear life.

 

If we had met sooner, maybe it wouldn’t have been so embarrassing.

 

But even if we had arranged for a sincere conversation, that would have been a problem.

 

‘What should I talk about?’

 

In reality, during my avoidance, countless scenarios unfolded in my mind. Yet, no matter how much I tried to imagine, a conversation between him and me didn’t readily come to mind.

 

No matter how much I tried to conjure it up, the ultimate answer was one.

 

Pretend it never happened.

 

“…That night.”

 

As the words fell from his lips, I trembled involuntarily.

 

He paused in his speech, looking at me with my reaction.

 

“Do you not even want to remember?”

 

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

 

Ergh, I don’t understand.

 

“Do you really not know?”

 

“Yes, I have no idea what you’re trying to say.”

 

“…”

 

Amoide’s eyes widened.

 

“I don’t remember… that night. I drank too much…”

 

His hands, placed on my knees, clenched the delicate fabric of the dress.

 

“Do you even want to recall it?”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“What am I trying to say about that night?”

 

“Well, we…”

 

I bit my lip instead of continuing the sentence.

 

“We?”

 

He lazily prompted.

 

Then he lowered his body and whispered, “What did we do, Céleste?”

 

A refreshing breeze swept by, causing Amoide’s silky hair to flutter, and some strands tickled my face.

 

“I, I…”

 

Suddenly, the scent of Amoide enveloped me.

 

It was a sensual and masculine fragrance, distinct from the perfume smell.

 

Hidden memories started to resurface all at once.

 

The memories etched on each other’s skin that night.

 

It revived with an excessively realistic sensation.

 

Although it had been buried deep, just a single scent brought it vividly back to mind.

 

“What are you thinking?”

 

He tilted his head, asking.

 

As if he knew everything happening in my mind, his eyes conveyed an understanding of every detail.

 

The notion of pretending not to know any longer would only make me the subject of his mockery.

 

“Okay, let’s say I remember everything. So what?”

 

His eyes sparkled and brightened as he looked at me.

 

He took a deep breath, clearly visible.

 

“I just woke up, and there I was, in your bed. That’s all I remember.”

 

His response seemed displeasing to him, as evidenced by the slight narrowing of his eyes.

 

“You and I were quite intoxicated, and, well…”

 

“And what?”

 

He inquired with a soft voice.

 

Yet, there was an unmistakable hint of threat in it.

 

Amoide’s expression, in line with this, became even more contemptuous.

 

“…We slept in the same bed.”

 

I mumbled my words.

 

“It was just an accident.”

 

“An accident?”

 

His expression turned slightly more disdainful.

 

With a face inherently distinct, it was quite a rugged expression.

 

“Say it again.”

 

“…An accident…”

 

Why is he glaring at me like that?

 

The saying that eyes can kill is no joke, perhaps not something to be said about this man.

 

“Let me hear it again.”

 

“…It was an accident…”

 

Comment

  1. Oluwaseun says:

    Digging her own grave 😂

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

error: Content is protected.

Options

not work with dark mode
Reset