The Abandoned and Terminally Ill Lady Married a Monster - Chapter 28
Chapter 28
“That was just a present. This is a birthday present. It’s different.”
“Did you make this?”
“…Yes. Even if it tastes bad, you have to eat it. Because I made it for you.”
Kin answered softly, avoiding my gaze. Then, he quickly added, “No, don’t eat it if it tastes bad. You shouldn’t get sick.”
“….”
“A-Are you crying?” Kin stammered, flustered, trying to soothe me. “I’ll bring you something else. Don’t cry.”
I reached out and grabbed his hand as he reached for the pie. With my bandaged hand, it was more of a clumsy grasp than a hold, but I stopped him. Kin froze.
‘I’m crying because I’m so happy, so incredibly happy.’
The words caught in my throat, choked by tears. All I could manage was his name.
“Kin…”
He placed the pie back on the table and hesitantly reached out, as if to hug me. I took his arm and leaned against him, smaller than I was. Tears flowed freely.
***
I now understood what it meant to be exhausted from crying. Kin handed me a cup of tea, seemingly brewed while I’d been crying.
“Drink this. You need to rehydrate after crying.”
I glared at him, sensing a hint of teasing in his voice. He chuckled softly and shrugged.
“My future wife said so, so it must be true.”
I didn’t argue, simply sipping the sweet tea. It cleared my head. ‘I’m so embarrassed.’
I cringed, remembering everything I’d confessed through my tears: how I’d hurt my arm and hand, the incident from before, the pressure to attend a party I couldn’t possibly go to…everything.
Kin muttered darkly, “They’re all asking for an early grave.”
Kin did seem rather prone to dramatic pronouncements. But I decided not to point it out. His support was enough.
“It’s not your fault.”
“….”
“It’s absolutely not your fault. Next time anyone tries to blame you, just kill them. They know what they’ve done.”
…Kin was very prone to dramatic pronouncements. Kill them? Still, his exaggerated words, however outlandish, were strangely comforting. Though the thought of such disobedience felt wrong…
The embarrassment returned, washing over me in a wave.
‘What have I said in front of him?’
‘I’m so embarrassed.’
When would I ever manage to speak to him without feeling this way? Especially now…
Because of my injured hand, Kin was feeding me the pie. He’d brought a fork and knife, making it possible.
‘It’s not that I dislike it…’
He was so earnest, and I was the only one feeling embarrassed. But I didn’t dislike it, not at all. In fact, I rather liked it, so I let him continue.
“It’s delicious… Aren’t you going to have any?”
“You need to eat and get better quickly—no, wait. I’ll have some too.”
He’d started with a stern instruction before softening and changing his mind. I was curious about the sudden shift, but pleased nonetheless.
Sharing this delicious pie would only make it taste better. I grinned, and Kin, catching my eye, smiled back.
“You look like a fool, smiling after crying like that.”
“I can’t help it. I’m happy because I’m with you.”
“…You’re a natural. Saying things like that.”
Kin briefly covered his face with his hand, his reddening ears betraying him. He sighed and carefully cut another piece of pie, offering it to me.
If he were just a little taller and broader, he’d look exactly like a prince. A sparkling, storybook prince with golden hair and blue eyes.
As the prince carefully fed me pie, the humble cottage felt strangely like a corner of a grand ballroom. Though, Kin truly belonged in a setting far more opulent than this.
‘A party…’
Lane and Lizzy had mentioned attending an academy entrance party tomorrow. I wasn’t sure who was hosting it; in fact, I’d only just learned of their plans.
‘What is a party like?’
I’d never been to one, or rather, my earliest memory of one was so faint, so young, it hardly counted.
‘I wonder if Kin has been to many parties.’
Going to a party with him would surely be delightful, a fantasy I could likely only dream of. I kept murmuring about how delicious and perfectly sweet the pie was. Kin was so shy, his ears constantly flushing crimson.
“Kin, I have a question.”
“What is it?”
“Have you been to many parties?”
He considered this for a moment, then nodded.
“What are they like? I’ve only been to one, so I don’t really know.”
Kin’s brow furrowed, perhaps recalling my mention of my siblings’ party tomorrow.
“Do you want to go to a party?”
“No, I don’t want to go. I’m just curious.”
If I could borrow someone else’s appearance, I might consider it. But not as myself. People would undoubtedly make a fuss, and I had no desire to enter such a daunting situation.
Still, my curiosity lingered. While fiction and reality differed, novels often romanticized parties.
Yet, the etiquette book I’d pilfered from my mother—she and Father preferred I learn nothing beyond basic dining and greeting etiquette—suggested a more complicated affair. It detailed how to walk, dress, dance…
‘I wonder if Kin is a good dancer?’ I waited for his answer.
Kin’s reply was succinct. “It’s just a gathering of adults, comparing who’s better than whom.”
“What about the dancing?”
“I avoid it every chance I get.”
He must not be a good dancer. I looked at him with a curious hum, prompting him to raise an eyebrow.
“It’s not that I can’t dance.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
