Chapter 66
Aside from his lingering anxiety, life in the estate was nothing short of perfect.
A castle that still needed repairs but was gradually stabilizing. A wife who welcomed him warmly. Peaceful days of falling asleep and waking up in the same bed with her every night and morning.
To someone else, it might have been a mundane routine, but for Caesar, it was nothing less than a slice of heaven.
As if all the wishes he had made during his tearful childhood nights had come true, he felt he had nothing more to ask of life.
However, if there was one remaining obstacle, it was about his own behavior.
‘How close is too close? How much is too much to ask?’
The worries that plagued him throughout their honeymoon were mostly of that kind.
On the verge of bursting from love for his wife, yet too clumsy to express it outwardly, Caesar found it difficult to gauge the appropriate boundaries of a husband’s behavior.
What was a husband supposed to be to a wife? Surely, his purpose wasn’t limited to being a provider and a responsible companion in life. Beyond such abstract definitions, there had to be more practical and specific roles. There had to be.
In short, Caesar was caught in a common but earnest dilemma of a newlywed.
He didn’t want to be apart from his wife, not even for a second.
But he couldn’t just approach her thoughtlessly, because there was still an unbroken wall in his heart—his inferiority complex. In his mind, Beatrice was still a princess high above the clouds, while he was the pauper boy salivating at the sight of her from below.
Fortunately, his wife was exceedingly compassionate, never stingy with the time she spent with him. In fact, she was rather generous in spirit.
The suggestion to share a bedroom, and the idea that they should always dine together unless something came up—both came from Beatrice.
When he opened his eyes in the morning, it was always she who smiled sleepily and kissed him first.
Each time she did, the contrast between her innocence and his dark, suppressed desire made him burn with the urge to take her without restraint under the sunlight that streamed in.
Even during the day, Beatrice would often hold his hand or offer light hugs. On lucky days, she would sneak in a kiss when the staff wasn’t looking, though it never lasted long.
He knew in his head that he should be grateful for even that. He had married her prepared for a more formal relationship, after all.
But human desire knows no end. Even while thinking himself shameless, Caesar found himself circling her like a starving dog, wanting more.
‘She kissed me yesterday… Is she not going to do it today?’
His thoughts while lingering near her were always like that.
Yesterday she kissed his hair, saying the sunlight made his black strands shine—but today, nothing.
Last time she held his hand at this exact moment, but now, she didn’t.
These tiny, obsessive observations piled up inside him like layers of dust.
Beatrice’s affection came without pattern, and its unpredictability only made it more tantalizing and excruciating.
It should’ve been simple to just ask, to approach her himself, but no matter how much time passed, he couldn’t bring himself to do so.
Like asking her to go out with him, or to stay by his side even if there was work to be done.
His craving for her kisses and hugs, especially for her in bed, was constant, and yet he didn’t even dare voice such desires.
To Caesar, those acts of affection were things his wife bestowed upon him, not something he had the right to ask for himself.
Whether out of fear that she’d be uncomfortable, or fear of rejection—the reasons were many, but most of all, he was terrified that Beatrice would find him bothersome and come to resent him.
And so, the only strategy he could choose was to tread carefully, making sure not to disturb her mood.
He had been lucky enough to marry Beatrice, and was even fortunate enough to receive her affection. If taking a step further might ruin all of that, then it was safest to do nothing at all.
Discussion
0 CommentsReactions
No comments yet.