I Pray That You Forget Me - Chapter 8
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
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‘This is just a common greeting that anyone might do.’
However, as if this ordinary greeting were an inappropriate act, Johann recoiled in surprise as my lips touched his cheek.
“Why?”
“Oh, well….”
“Do you dislike me?”
Perhaps, as Brigitta had suggested, he didn’t want to kiss me. Something that everyone does, like kissing on the cheek yet he found it unpleasant.
“I don’t dislike you….”
After saying this, Johann shut his mouth as if he had uttered forbidden words.
“If you don’t dislike me, why are you avoiding me?”
He looked into my eyes, lips hesitatingly brushing together as if searching for words. Whatever words he might find, they would likely be lies.
“Johann, if you don’t like me, just tell me honestly. I’ll be fine.”
I, who claimed to be fine, was the real liar. Clinging to a man who clearly didn’t like me made me feel pathetic. I lowered my head and turned away from him.
“I’ll consider your silence as the answer.”
“Rize.”
Turning around, Johann grabbed my wrist as I tried to leave. After turning me back, he lifted my lowered head.
Smack. His lips touched my cheek. Not once, but twice on both sides. Fairly long.
“What’s for dinner tonight?”
Seeing his face turn beet red after kissing me, it seemed only awkwardness remained.
We sat at the table facing each other, separated by a vase of hyacinths. Before having a meal, it was customary for us to express gratitude to God who provided the daily bread on our table.
‘…May our union be blessed by the strength from the daily bread provided by God and may we fulfill our marital duties tonight with the precious bodies bestowed upon us. If Johann indeed has a body incapable of bearing children, as the ladies have suggested, it would truly be a serious matter.’
Since God favors a harmonious household it would likely not be disrespectful to have such a prayer. When I opened my eyes after silently offering this prayer, Johann was still folding his hands and keeping his eyes closed.
‘Today’s prayer seems unusually long.’
Having to wait quietly until the prayer was finished, I inadvertently found myself observing Johann.
As he prayed, he looked so devout, almost holy. Even those large veins on his hands, which usually stirred excitement in my chest, now seemed more well-defined than wild, giving off a sense of neatness.
‘The term ‘like a priest’ wouldn’t be entirely wrong.’
Faithful and gentle by nature, Johann would have made an excellent priest if circumstances led him in that direction.
Yet, how fortunate it is that he is not a priest. If such a kind and wonderful husband were to spend his whole life in celibacy it would be considered a sin.
Lost in these thoughts, I rested my chin on my hand, staring at Johann. He finished his prayer and opened his eyes, looking puzzled. Smiling subtly at his confusion, I noticed he averted his gaze from me and picked up the bread on the table.
“I apologize for the long prayer. Let’s start our meal.”
What a good husband. A bit shy, but charming nonetheless.
Dinner tonight was more elaborate than usual. Typically, we would have coarse bread with barley and oats in a simple cabbage soup. However, today was different. I had diligently stirred and prepared butter throughout the day, and Johann had brought honey from another farm where he helped out, enhancing our meal.
“Johann, try this.”
I offered Johann a piece of warm bread, generously coated with the butter I had made by mixing yellow butter and rich honey.
“How is it?”
I asked proudly as he took a bite of the bread I had prepared.
“This butter, I made it myself.”
Johann’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Is it different from other butter?”
Johann nodded quickly, swallowing the bread.
“It’s much more delicious.”
“Because my love is in it.”
“Oh…”
Although his response to my declaration of love was lukewarm, my disappointment lasted only for a moment.
“You’ve been stirring milk all day, your arm must be sore. Next time, let me handle such tasks.”
“I’m not that fragile, Johann.”
As Johann continued to caution me to not overexert myself while eating a piece of bread, he glanced furtively at the butter. When I left to get some salt, I saw him discreetly cut a corner of the butter block and put it in his mouth. It’s just butter, without anything else.
As if he craved my love.
Johann might lack eloquence in expressing his feelings like I do, but through such actions, he demonstrated his love for me.
Today, I had a feeling that things were going to work out exceptionally well.
I felt courage surged within me from that good feeling as I headed downstairs for a bath after finishing dinner. However, upon returning to the attic and seeing Johan seated at the table, my courage dried up like the bottom of a well in the summer.
During the scolding I received from the ladies earlier in the day, I learned a lesson. As a result, I chose not to wear any underwear under my nightgown. Even so, I couldn’t bring myself to take off the cardigan.
Therefore, in Johan’s eyes, I probably looked the same as usual. He gave me a brief glance before shifting his gaze back to the letter he was writing. There was no change in his expression.
“Whose letter is it this time?”
I approached Johann and sat down beside him. Hoping for an opportunity to naturally practice what I had learned from the ladies, I struck up a conversation.
“This is a letter that was entrusted to me by the priest.”
