My Husband Hates Me, But He Lost His Memories Chapter 33.2

Chapter 33 – Part 2

I always woke up with frantic heart palpitations. I wasn't sure whether it was because of nightmares that I couldn't remember, or whether it was a symptom of anxiety.

My breathing was shallow and unstable. When I opened my eyes, the world was dark.

It was just early evening when I had slipped into the embrace of slumber, and when I awoke, it was still deep into the night.

I couldn't get a good night's sleep, it seems.

My body was heavy and sluggish all over. It felt as if my entire body was being melted down with the heaviness of fatigue.

Habitually, I almost called Charlotte, but I didn't want to trouble her and ask her to come all the way here. She should rest well, too, so I closed my lips once more.

Getting out of the bed, I found my slippers and walked towards the table where the kettles and cups were waiting.

There were two kettles there. One contained plain water, while the other contained chamomile tea.

Chamomile was good for soothing and strengthening, both in mental and physical aspects, that's why Charlotte always remembered to keep some ready by my side since I often drank it.

A bitter smile automatically found its way on my lips. After all, the chamomile tea was still warm.

…Don't tell me. It hasn't been long since I fell asleep?

Frustrated, I looked up to check the clock. The hour hand was pointing towards the number eleven. It was just past eleven o'clock, which was the usual time people went to bed.

I felt a bit unbalanced, but I calmly lifted the kettle and poured more tea into my cup.

I would be nothing but a nuisance to Charlotte if I called her. She's sleeping now. And I naturally also want her to rest well on her own.

'Charlotte's the kind of person who doesn't know when to rest.'

With a sip of tea, I felt a wave of warmth flush within me. A gentle smile graced my lips as I brought the cup with me towards the window.

I set the cup down on the windowsill and sat on the armchair beside it. Through the curtains, I marveled at the view outside.

The garden, which was shrouded by darkness, was covered by a blanket of silence.

Just like the scene outside, it felt as if my heart was at peace.

Here, I decided not to mind my thoughts for just a moment and allow myself to relax.

But then, the door creaked open and someone stumbled in.

Feeling myself freeze up reflexively, I soon recognized the silhouette of that person in the dark, and immediately, my mood plummeted.

The owner of that silhouette was none other than Theodore.

…Indeed, Charlotte wouldn't have staggered in like that. And outside, the knights of House Valentino should have been guarding the door.

“…Lily.”

His deep voice called out to me.

His pronunciation was slightly slurred, as though his tongue was loose.

With that cloudy gaze, that crooked posture and tangled hair that looked as if he'd been hit by a strong gust from somewhere, he obviously looked drunk.

“I tried to sober up… I went for a walk… But…”

That walk seemed to have been ineffective. Seeing as he couldn't come to his senses even though he had gotten exposed to the night air, his efforts were of no use at all.

As his pale face was terribly flushed red, he gave me a wide smile.

That man had always been prim and proper, yet he was now like this. Drunk. A complete mess.

'I saw you like this once.'

He was the same that night. Of course, he couldn't be exactly the same as he was back then.

…However, what happened that night still lingered in my mind, like something lodged in my throat that refused to go down.

When I recalled that moment again—that moment when I had reached out to him but was then coldly thrown away—I felt so frustrated. It's as if my chest had been filled with lead to harden my heart.

Unaware of my thoughts, Theodore staggered up to me.

The fact that he couldn't remember what happened that night filled me with misery.

I knew it was like this. Even if he was being kind to me now, I couldn't be happy about him losing his memories of me.

It was no different than bandaging a wound without properly treating it first.

What's going to happen once his memories come back? Would they ever come back? If they do, would he come to realize that he's been misunderstanding me all this time?

But then, if that truly happened, what good would that be?

“…You're drunk.”

Watching him slump down to the ground in front of me, I spoke softly.

It was easy to notice that he was feeling depressed, perhaps because of the knights who lost their lives today.

It dawned on me that he cared about his people.

Theodore Valentino was definitely a benevolent man. He was upright, he was on the track of righteousness, yet he was tolerant to a certain extent towards his own people.

On the other hand, he was also relentless towards enemies who bared their fangs at him and would go against morals. He was also heartless towards people who were outside his boundaries.

And obviously enough, I'm someone from outside that line.

“I'm sorry… for bein' like this.”

“You don't have to apologize.”

Sighing, I handed him the cup.

Theodore blinked dazedly at the cup, but with both hands, he respectfully took it from me.

…It really was a 'respectful' acceptance. I didn't know whether it was due to his drunken stupor, or if this was intentional.

“…What was Owen's gift to you? Why did you have to meet before?”

I asked while Theodore was sipping the chamomile tea.

As he was inebriated, I intentionally asked these questions. If he was in his right mind, he would never answer me honestly.

Pausing after uttering his own question, Theodore lowered the cup.

His eyes were still hazy with the influence of alcohol, but as they gradually grew clear, he slowly opened his lips.

“It was…”

Chapter end