After I Died, My Husband Went Mad - Chapter 93
[I don’t have the stomach for this.]
The piercing smell of food, the resonating voice, cold stares, and the sharp edge of a scraping knife on a plate. Sebelia, for a moment, felt as if she were back at Hillend Hall.
“Ugh…”
Back in her room, she clutched her chest. she remembered the people staring at her in surprise. She realized that she must have looked strange, but she couldn’t help it. The moment she heard him say his stomach wasn’t feeling well, the trauma embedded in her heart surfaced.
The setting of a dining room, Dehart’s presence, and his familiar words reopened a deep wound.
She buried her face in the pillow and whimpered.
Stupid. I should have cut these feelings off. These scars are no longer mine to bear.
Sebelia muttered like a spell.
I’m fine. I’m no longer Sebelia Inverness, so these things can’t hurt me anymore.
“I’m fine.”
The face that slipped out from under her pillow a moment later was the same as usual. A composed, gentle face adorned with a knowing smile. Sebelia stared at herself in the mirror and pursed her lips.
“There may be hundreds of such incidents in the future.”
Will she act like a fool every time? Sebelia asked her reflection. She shook her head slowly.
“Bella.”
Sebelia, reaffirming her new name, reached out to the mirror. Her lake-like blue eyes rippled like water being kissed by the wind. She spoke to herself with a determined voice.
“The wounds of the past can’t hurt you anymore.”
So, get up and spend the day like any other. She smiled to herself and grabbed the doorknob.
And there, in the hallway, stood Dehart who seemed to have been waiting for her.
* * *
After Sebelia left the dining room, Dehart took off his friendly face. Seeing his cold demeanor, Claude and Watts excused themselves, leaving Dehart alone. With his chin in one hand, Dehart was deep in thought. The stale muffin no longer made his stomach churn.
What just happened?
Dehart’s lips pressed tightly together. Beneath his lowered eyelids, the golden eyes hidden in the shadows were tinged with confusion. Beyond the fact that things weren’t going as he’d expected, he couldn’t make sense of her actions.
Originally, Dehart had planned to take a stroll with her and chat after the meal. The intention was to gain her trust or, at the very least, build a rapport.
But she suddenly got up and left.
He frowned. Sebelia’s behavior wasn’t part of his plan. He stared at the door she rushed through, trying to fathom why she had acted that way. And he had one suspicion.
Maybe she’s going to report my amnesia to the people masterminding this behind the scenes?
It was a speculation that would have been laughable if Sebelia had known, but Dehart couldn’t help it having lived a lifetime of suspicion and distrust towards others. The thought that the brunette Sebelia was fake was a familiar, easily acceptable, and convenient conclusion consistent with his natural way of thinking. But if she were the real Sebelia…
Stop, let’s stop thinking about it.
Dehart let out a pained groan and closed his eyes, deliberately avoiding anything that might force to take that agonizing train of thought. No conclusions had been reached yet. He decided to focus on the immediate reality.
Of course, right now, he didn’t realize that the conclusion he was avoiding would never lead him where he wanted to go.
So, he got up from his seat immediately. Pushing aside the obstacle blocking his view with his hand, he crossed the living room toward the hallway that led to Sebelia’s room on the same floor.
There, Dehart waited for her. Not to pry anything out of her, exactly.
I’ll expose your sinister intentions—and who’s behind you as a bonus.
With that, he leaned back in the hallway. A few minutes later, Dehart heard the door open.
Click.
As the door unlocked, the handle turned smoothly, and warm light spilled through the crack. Unconsciously, Dehart squinted against the light. Through the glow, Sebelia emerged into the shadowy hallway where he was.
“Damn it…”
He swallowed a muttered curse. The intense sunlight from behind illuminated her hair more dazzlingly than usual. Her deep brown hair, concealed by the radiant sunlight, appeared almost blonde. Dehart suppressed a groan.
Sebelia.
He took a step forward, resisting the urge to call her name and grab her by the shoulders.
The brunette Sebelia was looking up at him with blank eyes, wondering what he was thinking.
“Explain your—I mean, are you alright?”
Damn it! He realized too late that he had spoken as he usually did. He tried to slip back into his act but stumbled over his words like a flustered young man. Dehart’s neck turned red with embarrassment.
As if things weren’t already distressing enough, nothing was going right.
