chapter 05
[âŚâŚWhy didnât you say anything?]
Sara was used to it.
Being surrounded by servants, powerless as they did what they pleased, had become her daily life.
Trying to escape from a place where there was no escape felt more miserable than the humiliation and shame she endured from them.
âEven a hedgehog raises its quills to protect itself.â
After a weekâs absence, Aiden appeared. It seemed he had pulled himself together from the confusion and disorientation of his lost memories.
He might not remember everything, but he seemed to regard Sara as his wife, offering words of comfort in his own way.
Sara understood what he meant, but reallyâwould struggling change anything?
âIs it that difficult to answer?â
At his repeated questioning, Sara felt her body stiffen. Her lips were dry.
Sara had always taken a long time to arrive at answers, weighed down by too many thoughts. That tendency had often led to conflict throughout her marriage with Aiden.
[Are you ignoring me? Saying Iâm not even worth a reply?]
[Ha, so now even an orphan dares to ignore me!]
And when she finally managed to say that wasnât it⌠what had happened?
Glass shards lay shattered across the floor, and blood dripped freely from Aidenâs hand.
[Whyâwhy are you doing this, reallyâŚ!]
The sight of that vivid red blood made Sara dizzy. Even simple conversations would spiral into extreme confrontations. It was exhausting.
Sara didnât have the soft words to soothe her husband, nor the arms to embrace him.
She didnât have the strength to care for anyone. It was hard enough to keep herself together in the viscountâs estate.
And he never missed the chance to twist the knife.
[If my wife had only answered quicker, none of this wouldâve happened.]
It was Saraâs fault again. Not the man who showed violence, but Sara who was to be blamed.
Quick-tempered, unable to restrain his angerâthat was the Aiden Sara remembered.
She hadnât always been so quiet toward the servants, either.
Her authority as lady of the house disappeared the moment Aiden brought another woman into their home.
As if that werenât enough, he had even made Sara greet her in front of the servants.
Though she had never spoken a word to the woman, the incident became an endless source of gossip among the household staff.
Since he spent more time with that woman than with Sara, her position in the estate had only dwindled further.
She wasnât trying to blame him now. But at the very least, Aiden had no right to reproach her.
Whether she was injured, whether she endured insults from the servantsâthat was on him.
He was the one who stripped away her rights, who let her dignity fall to the ground.
âWhat changes if I say anything?â
Saraâs lips opened heavily. She had often felt helpless, watching how nothing changed no matter what she said.
ââŚWhat do you mean by that?â
Aiden looked stunned, like a man struck on the back of the head.
His blue eyes trembled faintly. Perhaps seeing her lifelessness stirred something in him.
Even if he had lost his memories, he should at least feel some guilt toward her.
Yet when she had watched him lying in bed after the accident, he had seemed peaceful, without a hint of remorse.
His throat bobbed heavily. As if deciding something, he reached for the ointment on the nightstand.
But then Sara spoke again, and he had to lower it back down.
âI donât know why youâre doing this. You never cared before.â
That had been circling in Saraâs head ever since Aiden had opened the door and appeared in the corridor earlier.
If he had just passed by, nothing wouldâve happened. The servants would have thrown a few cutting remarks, then gone back to their work. Eventually, she would have fallen asleep from exhaustionâthat was her day.
But instead, he had supported her and even driven the servants away.
Why was he doing this for her? Surely he didnât feel like she was really his wife.
Would it have been less miserable if he had laughed loudly at her injured state?
Would it have been better if he had shown no reaction at all?
Because taking her into her room, supporting her, and wearing a look of pityâthings he had never done beforeâfelt more like mockery than kindness.
As if it were nothing more than some cruel hobby to watch how she reacted.
âA reason⌠Iâve never thought about one.â
Aidenâs eyebrows arched high, irritation flickering in his expression.
Perhaps it wasnât the admission that he hadnât cared before that bothered him mostâit was that Sara dared to reply to his words now.
At least, that was her guess.
Looking frustrated, he tugged at his cravat and raked a hand through his hair.
Saraâs eyes fixed on his hand. She never knew where it might go.
Even if he had lost his memories, surely his habit of throwing things in anger wouldnât disappear so easily.
When his hand moved again, Sara squeezed her eyes shut.
The image of shattered glass and dripping blood flashed in her mind.
By now, she shouldâve heard the sound of a vase breakingâat least in her head.
But strangely, there was no sound.
Instead, she felt an unfamiliar touch and flinched, startled into opening her eyes.
âDo you need a reason?â
Aiden was now beneath her gaze.
And his hand was not striking herâit rested gently on her swollen ankle.
âYou have your way of doing things. I wonât press further. But this is mine.â
It seemed the argument didnât matter to him. What mattered was treating her injured ankle.
Whether it was from the warmth or the pain, Sara sucked in a breath, and her thin collarbone showed.
Aiden exhaled faintly at the sight.
âIf left untreated, it would have lasted a long time.â
He almost sounded as though he was scolding her for letting it get this bad.
What did it matter if she was injured or not? Sara lowered her head to the side.
Still, Aiden quietly applied the ointment.
âI donât know the reason. I only know I wanted to reach out to you.â
ââŚâŚâ
âMaybe itâs natural. To not just pass my wife by, but to look after her.â
His low voice weighed heavily on her heart.
While Aiden focused on applying the ointment, Sara slowly turned her head to look at him.
And she studied his face carefully. Was this truly the man she knew?
The golden hair, the fine brows, the intelligent blue eyes.
The features were the same, yet the atmosphere was different. Her hands clenched tightly around her clothes.
âWere you capable of this all along?â
Aiden had always stressed only her duties as his wife, so Sara could only blink in shock.
The same man who had tormented her was now saying it might be natural for a husband to look after his wife.
She couldnât find joy in his change. Instead, she wondered if losing his memory had truly turned him into another person.
Wherever his hand touched, the pain made her eyelids tremble.
And immediately, Aiden looked up at her. She hadnât wanted him to see her grimacing.
But unlike before, he didnât smirk. He didnât press harder just to torment her.
Instead, he looked worried, easing his touch and gently rubbing her ankle.
âHow does that feel?â
It wasnât delight he showedâit was concern.
âCould it be⌠Aiden was always capable of kindness?â
Sara shook her head faintly.
Every touch of his hand pulled up a flood of memories from their two-year marriage.
From that disastrous first night, to the times he spent the night with another woman.
[Had a blazing night with her.]
[Not sure youâd even know what that means.]
Boasting of it casually in front of her.
Throwing harsh words and objects whenever he was displeased.
[Are you even trying?]
[Iâm not interested in a concubine. What will you do if you get pregnant firstâŚ!]
His mother, Olga, who urged them to have children despite knowing their marital discord.
[You canât have children anyway. What peanut dish should I tease you with today?]
The servants who, seeing Sara denied her role as a true wife, joined in mocking her.
The countless nights she fought off rashes from food that didnât suit her.
The house she could never return to.
[Donât even think of coming back.]
No one anywhere who would look for her, who would wait for her.
[Iâm fine.]
Remembering how she had forced herself to act unbothered through it all, Saraâs eyes quickly burned hot.
But she hadnât been fine. Not even a little.
She had been fragile, weak, and breakableâa person with emotions that surged uncontrollably inside her, not some wooden puppet.
She had only endured because she had no other choice, not because she was unaffected.
ââŚWife?â
His belated voice reached her, but once the tears started, they wouldnât stop.
It had been so long since she last cried, and now here she was, breaking down in front of Aiden.
She knew she shouldnât, but she couldnât control it.
His voice sounded muffled through the flood of tears.
The way his lips moved as if to say something.
The way he turned his head, unable to bear the sight of her.
The way his fist clenched unconsciously, weighed down by guilt he didnât even understand.
Sara noticed none of it.
Her tears, endlessly streaming, blurred it all from view.
But she knew one thing for certain.
That he stayed, quietly listening to her sobs.
That the unfamiliar handkerchief pressed into her hand belonged to Aiden.
That the stench of heavy cigars no longer clung to his body.
And that perhapsâjust perhapsâtheir relationship would never be the same again.
Even as the sharp pain still lingered in her ankle.
