Holy Night: My Husband is Definitely a Paladin - Chapter 222
At that moment, Irene gave up trying to warm her hands and tucked them into her pockets, resigning herself to the cold that seemed to grow even harsher after each fleeting moment of warmth. Her scarf remained loosely tied, with no one there to help fasten it properly.
Shortly after, the dungeon entry began, and Irene stood at a distance, watching others go in.
Everyone was holding hands. Some pairs even exchanged playful smiles while others offered more formal, chivalrous gestures.
As the group filed into the dungeon, only two people were left standing at the entrance: Irene and Michael.
She glanced briefly at him, standing there with a troubled, hesitant expression, before turning away.
He wouldnāt hold her hand. He never did. Not then, not today, and likely never in the future.
Swallowing the bitter taste of her one-sided love, Irene tore apart the remnants of her pride.
Tonight, she swore, she would finally use that blanket, regardless of how Michael viewed her. She wouldnāt care anymore.
But in the end, she didnāt use the blanket that night either. And soon after, Irene fell into a terrible cold.
Her fever climbed so high that breathing itself became painful, and her body ached all over. She could hardly move her frostbitten fingers, and each cough felt like her lungs were being torn apart.
Unable to make a sound, she could only cry silently from the agony.
She was so exhausted that she wanted someoneāanyoneāto blame.
Not herself, for foolishly refusing to use the blanket, but someone else.
In her misery, one person came to mind.
Closing her eyes, she muttered, āI hate youā¦ā
Her sobs grew louder as she clenched her frozen fingers tightly, blaming Michael for her suffering.
I hate you.
I despise you.
If only I could turn back timeā¦ Iād never go near you again.
***
Gaspā¦!
Humans are supposed to be blessed with the ability to forget, but when those buried memories resurfaced, the despair and cold from that time felt painfully vivid.
Ireneās body began trembling uncontrollably. Her face turned pale, and cold sweat trickled down her skin as she exhaled heated breaths with great difficulty.
āSo coldā¦ā
She reached out weakly, pulling the blanket on the bed around her body. Even as she wrapped it tightly around herself, the cold didnāt subside.
Just then, Michael emerged from the bathroom.
āIrene, the water is readyāā
He stopped mid-sentence, alarmed by her state.
āIrene!ā
Rushing over, Michael realized something was seriously wrong.
āIrene? Whatās going on? Why are you suddenly like thisā¦?ā
He had only been in the bathroom for a few minutes.
When he left her earlier, she had been fine. Now, she was barely able to open her eyes, drenched in cold sweat, and burning with a high fever.
Panicked, Michael tried to pull the blanket away to check her condition, but Irene opened her eyes and looked at him.
The moment their eyes met, tears streamed down her cheeks.
āā¦I hate you.ā
āIrene?ā
āI hate youā¦ why, why is it different this timeā¦?ā
Her words were disjointed and made little sense, but instead of asking her to clarify, Michael froze.
āI hate youā¦ I hate youā¦ Why is it differentā¦? Back then, youā¦ā
Her voice was filled with pain, and Michaelās face twisted in anguish.
A deep sense of guilt shadowed his features, regret for the suffering he had failed to notice long ago.
āā¦Iām sorry.ā
Though he apologized, Irene didnāt seem to hear him. She continued murmuring her resentments, her feverish body trembling.
I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. Donāt come near me. Why? Why? Why? Itās cold. So coldā¦
Her broken words and trembling voice trailed into sobs before she muttered faintly,
āIām scaredā¦ā
Finally, Irene voiced the thought sheād clung to at the brink of death.
āā¦I donāt want to die.ā
The despair in her fragile voice made Michael freeze completely.
As he stood motionless, Ireneās tear-streaked face trembled before she lost consciousness.
***
When Irene opened her eyes again, the room was silent.
āā¦ā¦?ā
What happened?
Holding her pounding head, she tried to recall her last memory.
She and Michael had left the fortress together. Theyād done embarrassing things on the mountain path and reached the city late at night.
Now, sunlight flickered beyond the thick curtains drawn across the windows.
āMorningā¦?ā
When had she fallen asleep? And where was Michael?
As she reached out beside her, struggling to get upā
Slurp, slurp, slurp.
She heard a faint sound, as if something was eagerly lapping up water.
