Chapter 175
Read ahead of public and coin chapters ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ GoM kofi ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊
Her body, still warm from sleep, felt heavy and languid. Vanessa rested her flushed cheek against the Duke’s chest.
The man’s skin was damp and cooling, it felt far colder than the humid summer night air. Beneath the faint trace of cologne lingered a fresh, clean scent.
“I keep feeling sleepy… I need to get up—I haven’t finished writing yet…”
“Get some rest. I’ll wake you when dinner is ready.”
As soon as they passed through the corridor, the bedroom door came into view. The bed had been perfectly made. Every trace she had clumsily tried to hide earlier—out of embarrassment—had been erased completely.
Her lips dried.
The maids must have seen everything… the marks of how they had clung to each other like beasts since morning.
He laid her gently down onto the clean sheets. Even in her unsettled state, his touch—adjusting the pillow beneath her head, pulling the blanket over her was careful, attentive.
Vanessa, her face faintly flushed, watched as he rose from above her. It seemed he truly meant to let her rest.
Unlike the past three days when he had coaxed and tempted her in every possible way, leading to those nights she had endured with her whole body.
As he turned toward the window, she spoke impulsively.
“I had a dream just now.”
Her voice was low and strange even to her own ears.
The Duke, who had been drawing the curtains, turned at the sound. His deep, straight gaze fixed on her in the dim light. He walked back calmly and sat at the edge of the bed. His hand brushed the damp strands of hair clinging to her forehead aside.
“Was it a terrible nightmare?”
His tone was just as cool.
Talking like this, so calmly, almost made it feel as though the absurd dream she had just seen was still continuing.
Ahaha. The clear, high laughter of a child from that dream echoed faintly in her ears, like an afterimage. A field covered in blooming white flowers. Sunlight filtering through leaves in scattered patches. Dahlia barking happily. A small child—three, maybe four years old—running after a hat blown away by the wind.
And…
“Maybe.”
A faint, self-mocking smile flickered across her dry lips before disappearing. No matter how vivid it had felt, it was still just a dream. Yet she had let herself be caught in its lingering warmth, like a fool, voicing something she shouldn’t.
And in front of the very man she had sworn never to let her guard down around again… Vanessa cut off her thoughts firmly.
“It was just… about a good time.”
“Tell me.”
“…Do you really want to hear it?”
When she looked at him as if to ask if he meant it, one corner of his mouth lifted. The cold tension in his gaze eased slightly.
“Yes. I do.”
“…There were people in it.”
She paused briefly before continuing.
“I think it was a field somewhere in Linus Forest. I could see Mary and Mr. Ross standing at the edge of the woods. It was late spring, the white wildflowers were in full bloom. The wind was blowing… I don’t know how many years had passed… Dahlia was there, with small puppies… and…”
You were there too. She swallowed the words before they could leave her lips. The misery of facing reality came crashing in, like a slow, inevitable wave.
Dreams faithfully reflect the dreamer’s desires. No matter how much she tried to deny it outwardly, she couldn’t deceive her own heart. In the end, what she truly longed for deep down was something like that.
Something this man before her could never give.
“And then?”
“That’s all.”
Vanessa pressed her lips together. The wound split again, and a bead of blood formed. Just before it could fall, he reached out and caught her chin, turning her face gently toward him.
“……”
The moment their eyes met, a fierce, uncontrollable longing surged from deep within her.
‘Even now.’
A nauseating sense of self-loathing twisted inside her.
Sometimes, it didn’t even feel like her body and mind belonged to her. Some days, even the smell of food made her sick. Other days, she craved tart, juicy fruits to the point of madness.
At times like that, she would close her eyes and count backward, just to endure it.
