Wicked Husband-Chapter 138 - 137

Eileen recoiled instinctively, and to her own surprise, she realized what she had done. Her eyes widened, and her lips parted as if to speak.

"...Ah."

A short sound escaped her—half an exclamation, the beginning of some excuse—but no words followed.

And why should they? She had spent days avoiding Cesare, uncertain of how to behave around him. Now, trapped in this moment, she froze completely.

An awkward silence settled between them, thick with tension. Eileen’s mouth went dry as she felt the weight of her discomfort, an unease that was impossible for Cesare to miss.

He made no effort to ease the silence or lighten the moment. Instead, he gently stroked her cheek, his touch steady and calm.

Slowly, he tilted his head, bringing his face closer. Eileen couldn’t move—her body was frozen, as if paralyzed by his presence.

Their noses brushed lightly. She held her breath, acutely aware of every inch between them.

His hand, which had been caressing her cheek, slipped downward to her waist, his palm gliding along her tense body, coaxing her to relax.

Eileen braced herself, expecting his lips to meet hers. But they didn’t. Instead, Cesare lingered, his nose just a breath away from hers, his crimson eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that seemed to consume everything else.

In a daze, she realized she’d been holding her breath for too long. Tentatively, she parted her lips to take in air, and at that, Cesare’s lips curved into a soft, knowing smile.

With one finger, he pressed against her parted lips, its solid tip touching her tongue. Reflexively, Eileen drew her tongue back to avoid it.

When she did, his finger pursued her retreat, slipping into her mouth. He pressed down on her tongue as he murmured,

"Scared of a kiss?"

Eileen’s face flushed. It was impossible to conceal her thoughts when he could see right through her.

She had always longed for Cesare’s affection, interpreting every gesture of his as proof of his feelings for her, eagerly accepting each one. Even in moments of intense emotion, she hadn’t hesitated or pulled away.

But now, something had shifted. She felt uneasy with his proximity—an unfamiliar discomfort she couldn’t fully understand, yet it was undeniable. She had begun avoiding him, turning away from his touches...

It struck her as strange, even to herself. Unsure of how to respond, Eileen dropped her gaze, hoping to escape his piercing eyes.

Seemingly not expecting a reply, Cesare traced his finger lazily along the inside of her mouth, grazing the sensitive roof. The sensation was unbearable, sending an almost painful tickle through her. Tears welled up in her eyes in response.

Eileen wanted to call his name, but his finger kept her silent. It pressed deeply, triggering a faint gag reflex.

He didn’t pull back, even as her throat tensed with the effort to hold back the discomfort. Finally, she lifted her gaze to him, her eyes brimming with tears.

Cesare should have recognized her silent plea by now, but, unusually, he didn’t seem to react. Perhaps he was pretending not to notice.

Only when she let out a faint whimper did he slowly begin to withdraw his finger, dragging it teasingly across her soft palate before finally pulling away entirely.

Swallowing hard, she reached to lift the hem of her nightgown, intending to wipe away the moisture that coated his hand. But instead, Cesare raised his fingers to his mouth.

Frozen, she watched in silence as he leisurely licked them clean. There had been no kiss, but in that moment, it felt like something far more intimate had passed between them.

"Eileen."

His voice, damp with her saliva, shattered the stillness.

"You’re upset because of what I said, aren’t you?"

"Cesare, you didn’t say anything wrong."

"When I called you my nightmare?"

"Yes... it’s all my fault..."

Her words didn’t seem to satisfy him, and he pressed further.

"Does it really not bother you, knowing that I killed you in those dreams?"

The question didn’t unsettle her. In fact, the thought barely registered. If her death in his dreams would end his suffering, she would willingly die for him a hundred times over.

She nodded, her voice strained but unwavering.

"Yes... What bothers me more is..."

She faltered, unable to say the word nightmare. Just thinking of it sent a sharp ache through her heart.

"I’m just so inadequate... always more of a burden to you than anything else. If, even in your dreams, I’m just dragging you down..."

Her voice trailed off, the weight of her emotions nearly choking her. She paused, struggling to steady her breath.

Suddenly, she felt foolish. No matter how much Cesare reassured her, this self-pity was childish, immature.

’Once again, I’m acting like a child.’

The sadness was something she should have kept to herself. She wanted to show Cesare only her brightest side. Regret crept in, but Cesare’s low voice kept her tethered to the present.

"Keep going, Eileen."

Without meaning to, she found herself confessing everything she had tried so hard to suppress.

"I just wanted to hide from you... I felt frustrated, but mostly, I was ashamed of myself. I just felt..."

She hesitated, but then forced herself to admit what she’d been so terrified to say.

"...so useless."

Having bared her soul, she felt strangely hollow, as though someone had scooped out her heart with a spoon. All she could do now was watch Cesare’s reaction, praying that this vulnerable moment would end quickly.

He studied her quietly, then, at last, spoke.

"If I based our relationship on utility, I wouldn’t have picked you up from that field of lilies."

Eileen’s breath caught in her throat. The words pierced deeper than anything she expected.

"I’m sorry."

She bit her lip, torn. She should probably end the conversation here, but there was one more question she needed to ask. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

"Ah, one more thing..."

Stealing a cautious glance at him, she spoke softly.

"Can you tell me... what these nightmares are like?"

She needed to understand what he was going through. If she could grasp more of what he experienced, maybe she could find a reason for it—or even a way to help. She didn’t want to be trapped in his nightmares anymore.

"If you’re in my nightmares..."

Cesare’s voice was casual, and Eileen felt a fleeting panic that he might not answer at all. She held her breath, waiting.

"They’re nightmares I create."

His words took her by surprise, leaving her momentarily confused.

"How can you... create a dream?"

It wasn’t the right question for such a serious moment. Eileen winced at her own naïveté, and Cesare chuckled softly. Realizing her blunder, she blushed, feeling a little embarrassed.

But she’d only asked because she wanted to understand him. After all, Cesare was the last person to dwell on dreams and nightmares.

"With a few sacrifices."

He gave her an answer she didn’t fully understand, glancing at her reddened cheeks before continuing.

"Even in dreams, you’d tell me you’d die for me. You’d walk up to the one trying to kill you, looking up with those innocent eyes and telling them to go ahead and finish it..."

He trailed off, a strange smile crossing his face—not one of happiness.

"With that look, who could bear to hurt you? I made sure no one could take your life but me."

He placed a hand on her neck, the touch light yet intense. In a calm, steady voice, he said:

"So, I killed you with my own hands."