After I Died, My Husband Went Mad - Chapter 224

“Dehart?”

“Bella, what are you doing here instead of sleeping?”

“I… I was just… no, isn’t that a question I should be asking you?”

“Oh.”

Only then did Dehart realize that he had left the estate without a single word.

“I didn’t have the chance. Sorry.”

“Hmm.”

Sebelia looked at him, unable to hide her surprise, and loosened her shawl. At first, she thought she might be seeing things due to lack of sleep. After all, his appearance was unusually unfamiliar.

What on earth has he been up to…?

From a distance, he looked like an ordinary city youth. But up close, the wild energy he carried was impossible to conceal.

A sturdy chest visible through a rough shirt, leather suspenders stretching across his torso, ankles exposed above the rolled-up hem of his worn brown shoes—it all spoke of a ruggedness far from that of a mere overworked office worker.

Sebelia couldn’t help but wonder where he’d been dressed like that.

Could it be somewhere I’m not supposed to know about?

Unaware of her speculation, Dehart approached Sebelia with a worried look.

“Bella, why did you come down to the kitchen yourself? Did you have a nightmare or something? Stay in your room. If you need something warm, I’ll bring it to you.”

What if the delicate woman caught a cold from standing in the cold. Just moments ago, he had interrogated someone without a blink, yet now concern filled his eyes.

“The dawn air is still chilly, isn’t it?”

He carefully reached toward her, but his hand didn’t touch her. As he tried to gently guide her by her sleeve, Sebelia suddenly grabbed his wrist.

Caught off guard, Dehart blinked slowly. Sebelia pressed herself into his chest.

“Uh… Bella?”

Before he could react, her hand had gripped his collar. Dehart bit his lip, trying to pull away, but it was useless. She pressed close, almost as if willing their bodies to merge and sniffled.

Of course.

It was the scent of blood. She had feared she smelled it wrong, but no. As Dehart’s cheeks unconsciously flushed, Sebelia felt a throbbing headache coming on.

Where had this man even been?

“Huuh.”

“You’re… too close.”

Seeing Dehart in such a state—exhausted and acting like a reckless child, disappearing without a word—Sebelia forced herself to stay composed.

“Answer honestly. Where have you been until now?”

Their gazes met in midair. For a brief, silent moment, neither moved. Then Dehart surrendered first, a shadow of melancholy crossing his golden eyes, and he let out a long sigh.

“…This isn’t something to discuss here.”

He tried to move to pull Sebelia again, but Dehart instead looked at her under-eye hollows with concern.

“I’ll tell you everything, but first, get some sleep. Don’t worry—I won’t run off.”

There was no time to argue. Without further hesitation, he released her collar and guided her by the shoulder. Sebelia, irritated, attempted to wriggle free, but her exhausted body didn’t resist.

“You really have to tell me everything…! Even if I fall asleep, there’s no way you or Sir Eli can hide anything from me. I know you disappeared together.”

On the way back to her room, Sebelia kept demanding the truth, refusing to let her drooping eyelids get the better of her. Dehart conceded, knowing he had no excuse.

He should have headed straight for the bathroom instead of lingering for coffee or other distractions. That way, he might have avoided discussing Roden and Gren altogether.

Is it already too late?

He didn’t want to burden her further, yet as he turned, a low murmur escaped his teeth.

* * *

A few hours later, morning arrived with a gentle fox rain dampening the garden. Claude, having taken a slow walk through the wet grounds, raised his head at Dehart’s summons.

“They want you in the office immediately.”

“Yes. They also request that you come with your friend.”

Eli singled out Watts, and Claude’s expression shifted subtly.

Why Watts, all of a sudden?

Publicly, Watts was known as the doctor who had treated Dehart during his episodes of mania. Claude himself presented Watts as a collaborator and savior, claiming he had discovered Dehart’s condition in time to treat him.

In reality, these were fabrications Sebelia had set up to justify staying close to Dehart.