I Pray That You Forget Me - Chapter 53
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
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“Dietrich Felkner himself is offering to marry you just to sleep with you, and you refuse without even acknowledging the honor?”
“Please, make your proposals of marriage to someone who would find them honorable.”
“It’s not like using you a bit would wear you out. Plus, if you get bombed, your body’s just going to be a rotting piece of meat. Why not give it up before it rots.”
“My God….”
The more reasonable I tried to be, the more unreasonable the major’s responses became. It seemed he found amusement in tormenting me. Realizing this, I stopped responding to his provocations.
Today, too, I continued sweeping and did not react to his suggestion to undress and join him.
“Feeling wronged because the rumor says you slept with me, when you haven’t? Wouldn’t you feel less wronged if it were true?”
The major chuckled to himself, apparently finding his own ideas extremely amusing, even without any reaction from me. Eventually, he stopped laughing when ashes from his cigarette fell onto the sheets. He stubbed it out in the ashtray on the side table.
I expected him to start getting ready for work after his post-coital cigarette, but instead of getting up, he picked up a small, thick stack of ration cards he’d apparently taken out to offer as payment.
“Rize Einemann, don’t you need ration cards?”
He didn’t put them away but waved them at me instead.
“How many shall I give you?”
“I don’t need any.”
Because they wouldn’t be free.
“Seems you’re not hungry enough yet.”
The major clicked his tongue at my firm refusal and threw the stack of ration cards back into the drawer. But that didn’t mean he had given up.
“Think carefully. Winter is far from over, and the end of the war is even further away.”
However, the newspapers had been saying that the cold was slowing down the enemy’s advances and that the end of the war was near, that we just needed to endure this winter.
I was confused by the contradictory statements. The words of someone who handles secrets at the highest command might carry more weight, but I also suspected that the major might be lying to unsettle me.
It wasn’t the first time he’d fabricated stories to disturb me.
“Come spring, you’ll be so desperate that you’ll cling to me, begging to be bought. Today your body might be worth ten ration cards, but by then it will be worth just one. Think about it.”
His words were truly distasteful, the kind that could turn even a woman who liked him against him.
“Major, you are…”
Finally, I broke my usual silence and said something I had held back.
“You’re handsome, have a good job, and hold a high position.”
“And?”
He paused, lighting his new cigarette and looked at me, wondering why I was suddenly praising him.
“You have all the attributes that women look for in a man…”
Of course, he lacked a good character, but I decided to ignore that for the moment.
“Most women would be tempted by just a sweet word and would willingly have an affair with you.”
To be honest, not even a sweet word was necessary. Look at Johann. Despite the deal-breaking disadvantage of being married, women were drawn to him because he met all their desired criteria.
“Why then do you choose to use crude words that drive women away, only to try to buy them back with money?”
It made no sense to make women who might willingly sleep with him end up doing so out of coercion or despite their reluctance. It contradicted his claim of not forcing women. Even if it was just a play on words, the major’s behavior was paradoxical and bizarre.
Was it perhaps due to some hurt he had received from women? Had he become unable to trust a woman’s sincerity because of it?
You will betray me eventually. Is that the kind of distrust he had? Is that why he turned every romantic relationship into a transaction? To make sure his heart never gets hurt again by treating women not as objects of affection, but merely as objects of desire?
“Do you think women only understand their place when they’re paid?”
My speculation turned into a ridiculous fantasy the moment the major provided his answer.
“If I sleep with them for free, they think it’s out of love. Then women start to interfere and act as if I’ve promised marriage. Do you know how annoying that is? That’s why I make it clear it’s a transaction, just a hierarchical relationship.”
A hierarchical relationship.
The major wasn’t seeking affection from women, nor was he primarily driven by s****l desire. He just wanted to affirm his power.
I felt foolish for ever thinking that the major might have been a good person who had been corrupted by some unfortunate event. I realized that there was no reason to empathize with him or try to change his mind, as I no longer saw him as a fellow human on the same moral ground.
“Aren’t you changing the sheets?”
I was about to finish cleaning everything but the bed when the major asked, sitting on the edge of the bed covered with the sheet.
“Should I throw the Major in the laundry basket as well?”
The major chuckled and then dramatically flung the sheet aside. He still hadn’t gotten up.
“As you command, Lady Rize.”
He finally got off the bed and started picking up his clothes that were hung over a chair. I moved to the other side of the bed.
The situation under the sheets was worse than above. I was relieved I didn’t have to do the laundry. Like picking up trash, I used a long pair of tongs to grab the sheets and stuff them into the laundry basket, while the major buttoned his trousers and asked.
“Isn’t today your husband’s first day at school?”
