The Bigshot's Superstar Wife-Chapter 79: The Second Time Around

Athena went out of her bed, the soft rustle of the sheets following her as she stepped onto the cold floor.

It was late at night, and the silence of the room seemed to echo the questions racing through her mind.

The weight of her thoughts had kept her awake, and the stillness offered no comfort. Her head throbbed slightly, a subtle reminder of the strange experiences she’d endured.

She hadn’t anticipated the sudden collision with a hard chest. Her nose pinched painfully at the impact. "Be careful, wife..."

The man’s voice sent shivers down her spine. It was deep, and familiar, but wrapped in a tenderness she hadn’t expected.

She blinked, dazed for a moment, unable to fully process the situation. This was... too familiar. Too surreal.

"Mors..." She whispered, her breath catching in her throat as she looked up into his eyes, searching for answers.

"The floor is cold," he said, his voice carrying a monotone of concern.

His hands, strong yet gentle, wrapped around her waist, and in an effortless motion, he lifted her into his arms.

The familiar scent of him, a mix of earth and something deeper, something uniquely him, surrounded her.

Before she could process what had just happened, she found herself being carried across the room, her body cradled in his arms with surprising tenderness.

He laid her down on the bed, his movements gentle as he adjusted the covers around her.

Athena stared at him, confusion clouding her expression. "We have carpeted floors," she murmured, not quite understanding why he felt the need to carry her.

"Your health is more important," Mors replied, his voice quiet, almost too neutral.

There was something in the way he spoke, though, as if he was trying to hide the weight of his own thoughts.

Athena lay still for a moment, her mind racing. She realized, with a sudden jolt, that Mors had already known something about her health.

Was he aware of the toll the entertainment industry had taken on her?

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Her body had been pushed to its limits over the past two years, but how could he know?

She had only shared brief mentions of her exhaustion, not the full extent of it.

Was it possible that Mors had gathered information about the wife assigned to him by the Main Interstellar Brain? Or was it something more?

Why have I never noticed this before? she thought, but the questions piled up faster than she could answer them.

Had he always known? Did he know her body had been ravaged by the constant pressures of the entertainment world?

She couldn’t help but wonder if he was somehow more perceptive than she realized, or if something was off entirely. And yet, something felt different about this night.

Mors wasn’t the man she remembered from her past life, the military man with a tragic obsession and the pain of his own reckless experiments.

The poison that had stained his blood, the very thing that had brought him to his breaking point, seemed absent tonight.

How could it be that none of the events from her first life had unfolded the way they had the last time around? Was it the rebirth that had altered everything?

Before she could answer herself, the lights flickered on, breaking her concentration. The bright light of the room felt harsh against the backdrop of her swirling thoughts.

She could see him now, his face clean and free of the exhaustion that had plagued him before.

Mors was standing by the bathroom door, wiping his face with a towel, his hair still damp from the shower.

Athena had been lost in her own mind for a moment, but as her gaze wandered back to him, she found herself transfixed by the sight of him.

He looked different from before, more settled, more alive somehow, less burdened by the darkness that had overtaken him in their previous life.

It wasn’t until the moment Mors began to change his clothes that something stirred in her. Without thinking, without truly processing the act, she found herself standing up.

"Mors," she said before she could stop herself. The words left her lips without any forethought. Her heart was racing, a strange impulse taking over.

Mors paused, looking up at her with an expression that seemed to flicker between confusion and understanding.

He wasn’t surprised by her sudden motion, but there was a question in his eyes.

"I… I’ll dry your hair," Athena said quietly, her voice softer than she had intended.

She wasn’t sure why she offered this, but there was something in the act that felt right, like it was a bridge connecting them to something they both needed.

Perhaps it was the feeling of closeness, of tenderness, that had been missing from their previous interactions.

Mors didn’t answer at first. He simply stared at her, his expression unreadable.

But then, he nodded once, his acceptance quiet, as though he understood what she was offering, what she needed.

Athena picked up the towel, still warm from the dryer. Her hands shook slightly as she approached him.

The sensation of touching his hair, of seeing him so vulnerable in front of her, brought an overwhelming sense of intimacy, a rawness that she hadn’t expected.

She worked the towel through his hair, slowly drying it. Her fingers brushed against his scalp gently, and she couldn’t help but notice the quiet sigh that escaped his lips.

His body tensed slightly at first, but then relaxed into the motion, as though accepting the comfort she was offering.

The silence between them grew heavier, but not uncomfortable. It was as though they were both treading carefully through a delicate moment.

Athena’s mind continued to spin, but the simple act of being with him, of sharing this intimacy, brought a momentary sense of peace.

She didn’t need to ask him why he had changed, why his soul was not darkened by the weight of his past.

I can’t ask him about events in the past or long in the future. She could feel that something had shifted, not just within him, but within her as well.

They were both in the same place, a new time, and a second chance.

Whether or not Mors had been reborn, whether or not they could undo the past, there was one truth she knew for certain.

They were still here. Together.

And that, in itself, was enough.