The Wicked Wife's Dark History Keeps Coming Back To Haunt Her - Chapter 197
“……?”
As Ash braced himself with one hand on the floor beside her head and lowered his face, Nina slowly lifted her eyelids.
Was drowsiness finally overtaking her?
She stared at him through sleep-heavy eyes, puzzled, before slowly letting her eyelids fall shut again.
A faint crease appeared between her otherwise smooth brows.
He knew she no longer held any lingering attachment to this marriage, but still… No matter how exhausted she might be, how could she be so defenseless?
Just looking at the tips of her pale toes was enough to stir in him an appetite so unbearable he could barely suppress it.
His throat bobbed as he carefully cupped her snow-white foot, soft as rabbit’s ears, in his hand.
Tracing the protruding curve of her ankle bone with his thumb, his voice came out low and rough.
“…Wife, you shouldn’t sleep here.”
The more his fingers swept over her soft skin, the darker his storm-gray eyes grew.
Did she not realize what thoughts were running through his head right now?
She gave a breathy, airy laugh, wiggling her foot.
“…Mmm, that tickles.”
Ash pressed firmly against the hollow beneath her ankle, his voice deepening further.
“The floor is hard. You’ll be sore in the morning. Please, sleep in the bed.”
Even if one fell asleep like this, the stiffness would be unavoidable.
And come morning, the aftermath of sore muscles would hit her like a wave; sleeping on the floor would only leave her weary for the rest of the day.
To this, Nina murmured in a voice heavy with drowsiness.
“I dislike being cold even more, I guess…”
On the way to the palace for the charity event, she had fallen asleep then, too, pressed close to the fire.
Recalling that moment, Ash pressed his lips against her temple and said.
“If you dislike the cold so much, then I’ll just have to keep you warm.”
What he really wished was for her to seek refuge from the chill in his arms.
He could hold her all day, keeping her warm so that her body never cooled.
His patience would surely fray, his self-control worn thin by the desire to bite her fair skin and leave his mark all over her.
Even imagining it made him restless, his sigh coming out languid.
Then, he felt her body stiffen beneath him.
“……?”
Her round, aquamarine eyes opened wide, clear and alert.
The question in them filled the air with tension as her lips parted slowly.
“…What kind of make-believe is this supposed to be now?”
At her unexpected question, the soft smile playing at his lips vanished in an instant.
“Make-believe? What do you mean by that?”
“No, it’s just… earlier, you……”
Ah. The kiss.
When she dismissed the fragment of emotion he had carelessly revealed as nothing but a jest, his expression sank.
“…Why do you think it would be make-believe?”
“Well, that’s because you…”
“……”
Nina faltered, her lips parting in hesitation before she awkwardly turned her face away.
“…Anyway, there’s no need for this when no one’s even watching.”
The moment he had turned away from her in the past, coldly leaving the bedroom after claiming he felt nothing…
Was she still stuck in that moment?
Thinking of the dagger he had once driven into her heart, Ash let out a bitter smile.
‘…Of course she can’t forget.’
He had meant every cruel word he said that day, intending to wound her deeply.
“……”
Nina claiming she had no interest in Henry wasn’t enough to put him at ease.
The greatest problem was the wounds he himself had left on her heart.
And her certainty that he could never possibly love her.
It was why she had been able to brush off all those nights they had shared a bed with such cool detachment.
Ash enclosed her in his arms, his voice low and tender as he murmured.
“You’ve changed. So why are you so sure I haven’t changed, too?”
“That’s……”
Her aquamarine eyes trembled faintly, like ripples disturbed by heavy memories.
In his mind flashed the moments he had hurt her.
How he had ignored her pleas for her life that day.
How he had never once looked at her, broken and bedridden, after her spirit had finally been crushed.
“Ah……”
Ash took hold of her ankle, fingers brushing over the frost-white scar etched on her leg.
To her, frozen like prey caught in a trap, he said.
“I do not want to divorce you.”
