Wicked Husband-Chapter 44 - 43

Life teaches us that we can’t have it all. Every gain comes with a sacrifice.

Eileen, determined to avoid regret, made her choice. Still, a pang of loss lingered for the road not taken.

Sitting across from him at the familiar table, she picked up a sandwich. With a large bite, she devoured not just the food, but also the hollow, meaningless thoughts that threatened to overwhelm her.

The sandwich proved delicious. Despite being crafted with the familiar ingredients and methods, its flavor seemed remarkably richer than when she indulged alone. As she chewed, filling her mouth, Eileen pondered this significant difference in taste.

There was only one thing that had changed: the person. She wondered if it was because Cesare had sliced the baguette with an artistry unseen before, but deep down, she knew the secret ingredient was his charming presence.

Could there be any greater joy than dining with your favorite person in the most comfortable and familiar place?

"It’s delicious."

She devoured the sandwich, her appetite finally returning. But a prickle of awareness snagged at her attention, and her hand fluttered to her face. Had she gotten a crumb?

Glancing across the table, she met Cesare’s gaze. He was staring intently at her, a slight smile playing on his lips.

Cesare chuckled softly, his gaze still warm on her face. "There’s nothing there. Really."

"Then why...?"

"I’ve wanted to look into your eyes for a long time."

He narrowed his eyes slightly.

"If I had known, I would have taken them off sooner."

A momentary flash of confusion crossed Eileen’s face. Glasses? Clothes? It had to be the former. "Your Excellency," she replied, her voice a touch flustered.

"Your Excellency," Eileen repeated, her voice barely a whisper. "If Cesare prefers... well, perhaps I should consider ditching the glasses altogether. Maybe then I wouldn’t appear so... gloomy."

Despite a flicker of self-consciousness about her bare eyes, Eileen straightened her spine. Cesare’s words lingered, a spark of warmth in her chest. Honestly, wearing a sparkling wedding dress with unkempt hair and glasses would look rather silly.

’And if the dress is flashy, it won’t draw attention to my face. I should ask them to minimize the headpiece so that it doesn’t draw eyes to my face.’

Imagining the shock of the dressmakers, Eileen glanced at Cesare’s untouched sandwich.

"Don’t you like the sandwich?" she asked, a hint of embarrassment creeping in. She had been relishing hers so thoroughly, confidently assuming its simplicity—mere assembly of ingredients—would guarantee its appeal. However, Cesare’s reluctance to partake suggested otherwise. It seemed she wasn’t as adept at cooking as she had thought.

"I think it’s... delicious, though..."

As Eileen checked the sandwich for any signs of sauce dripping, she accidentally got some on her hand. Internally cursing her perpetual clumsiness, she noticed Cesare gesturing toward her. Unsure of his intentions, she offered him the sandwich, but he didn’t take it. Instead, he gestured at her sauce-covered hand, prompting her to extend it hesitantly.

The table wasn’t wide, so Cesare easily reached out and grasped her wrist. Eileen anticipated that he might wipe her hand clean, but what followed exceeded her wildest expectations.

Gasp!

He licked her fingers. As she trembled in surprise, his tongue swept up the sauce from her fingers, even gently nibbling the tips of her pink-painted nails before releasing her wrist. The sauce was gone, but faint teeth marks were left behind. Eileen stared blankly at them, then glanced at Cesare, who finally began eating his sandwich.

"I think it’s delicious, too. You did well," he remarked calmly.

At his praise, Eileen’s face flushed bright red. She fidgeted with the hand he had bitten and cautiously resumed eating her sandwich. But now, it didn’t taste the same. Mechanically biting and swallowing, she tried to avoid looking at her bitten fingers.

Whenever Cesare did something like this, a wave of unfamiliar sensations crashed over her. Her heart would skip a beat, a flutter in her chest that left her breathless. It was a feeling both exhilarating and unsettling, a tangled mess of emotions she couldn’t quite decipher.

The real issue was the way her body reacted. A warmth would bloom in her cheeks, a tightening knot formed in her stomach, and a strange flutter filled her chest. It was a confusing response, a tangle of emotions that made her feel exposed and vulnerable.

Every time she noticed the aftereffects of these encounters, a pang of self-doubt washed over her. Was this truly how she wanted to feel? Was she succumbing to desires she didn’t fully understand? These feelings were new, awakened by Cesare, and the responsibility felt a bit unfair.

The same sensation lingered from earlier, a low hum beneath her skin. When he licked her fingers, the intensity spiked, leaving her breathless and flustered.

’What do I do...’

Eileen squeezed her eyes shut, the unfamiliar heat radiating from her core making it impossible to concentrate on anything else. Her half-eaten sandwich lay forgotten on the plate. A shaky breath escaped her lips as she stole a glance at Cesare.

He had already finished his sandwich and was now watching her intently. Eileen quickly lowered her gaze to the table. She felt like he could read all her lewd thoughts if their eyes met.

"Eileen."

"Y-yes?!"

Lost in her thoughts, Eileen flinched, causing her shoulders to jerk. Her high-pitched, cracked voice pierced through the quiet of the brick house.

"What are you thinking about?"

Cesare’s inquiry hung in the air. When Eileen didn’t respond immediately, he asked again, his tone akin to someone inquiring about the taste of a sandwich.

"Naughty thoughts?"

Eileen froze, her mouth hanging open. She knew she should deny it, but the moment had already slipped away.

’What do I do? What do I do?’

Overwhelmed by a flood of thoughts, she ended up lowering her head in silence.

The feeling of tears pricked at Eileen’s eyes. Here she was, all flustered and flustered for what? She couldn’t even cut her hair or cook a decent sandwich, and now she was entertaining "dirty thoughts" as Cesare so playfully phrased it.. Here she was, wanting to impress Cesare, to be strong and capable, and yet his playful accusation had left her feeling like a silly schoolgirl.

Cesare pressed his lips with the back of his hand for a moment, but his eyes, visible above his hand, were already sparkling with amusement. Not understanding why he was laughing, Eileen stared sadly at the half-eaten sandwich. She wished she had her bangs and glasses to hide behind.

"Is your bedroom still the same?"

She slowly raised her gaze at the lazy tone of his voice. He was smiling in a way that could easily be misunderstood.

"Show me around, Eileen."

"..."

It was no use. Everything felt completely ruined. Whatever Cesare said, it only led her mind to lewd thoughts now.

Mortified, Eileen lurched to her feet, clutching the empty plate as if it were a lifeline. Escape to the kitchen was her only thought. Cesare, however, was one step behind.

"There’s nothing special on the second floor... but if you really want to see it, let’s go up together."

A stammer escaped her lips as she turned for the stairs, but before she could take a step, she was airborne. Cesare had swept her up in his arms.

"Ah! Your Excellency!"

"There you go again."

"Oh, sorry. Cesare, please put me down."

"Your feet are small, it’s dangerous."

Despite her small protests, Cesare, claiming it was because of her "delicate feet," carried Eileen up the stairs. The excuse was transparent, but he held firm, and soon, Eileen found herself deposited in his arms on the second floor.

The upper level housed only Eileen’s bedroom, a storage room, and a small study. Despite the lack of excitement, Cesare surveyed the space with a curious gaze. A soft sigh escaped his lips as they reached her bedroom door.

"...Ah."

Cesare inhaled deeply, the air thick with the comforting scent of Eileen’s room. His gaze swept across the cozy bedding, the small table nestled by a window, the worn sofa, the wardrobe, and finally, the bathroom door. Only then did he glance down at Eileen, still cradled in his arms.

Eileen, acutely aware of their position, shifted uncomfortably. Their eyes met, and a tremor seemed to flicker across his crimson depths. A barely audible murmur brushed against her ear.

"It’s all you," he breathed.

"Scent" hung heavy in the air, sparking a flicker of confusion in Eileen’s eyes. Did he mean something unpleasant? But as their gazes locked, a slow burn ignited beneath the surface. It mirrored that night, the same smoldering intensity in his crimson eyes.

Unsure if this was playful banter or a heartfelt confession, a tide of potential embarrassment threatened to engulf her. Eileen, unable to decipher his true meaning, tore her gaze away.

Meanwhile, the air crackled with unspoken tension. Cesare strode purposefully into the room, his every step echoing in the confined space. Reaching the center, he finally released her, his touch lingering a beat too long before she found her footing.

He proceeded to meticulously inspect the room once more, not merely observing but also running his hands over various objects. He pressed the backrest of the small single sofa that Eileen often occupied.

***