Please Forget Me - Chapter 42

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Without any modesty, he sprawled his legs wide, further exposing himself under the parting robe. It seemed like he was deliberately flaunting himself.

‘Is he boasting? Why boast about that?’

If the Major was to see Johann’s, he wouldn’t be able to claim I married an insignificant man again.

Strangely, I wasn’t scared even as he exposed himself to me. It was more of an indifference.

‘I was utterly shocked the first time I saw the gen—als of livestock in the barn…’

Could it be that, as a nurse, I had seen too many men’s privates that it wasn’t scary or shameful anymore, just grotesque?

That’s why, feeling much calmer than before, I looked him straight in the eye. His expression, which was initially expecting something from me, soon turned to boredom as well.

“Rize Einemann, what are you doing standing there like a soldier? You’re a cleaner, not royalty.”

He took a cigarette from the pack on the table, pointing around with his eyes.

“Clean this up.”

Seeing the mess in the room for what it was, my anger began to rise.

Three wine bottles were rolling on the floor, one seemingly discarded with its contents staining the carpet a deep purple. What used to be a butter cake was now smeared on the bedsheet and crushed into the floor.

While the civilians had to celebrate Christmas quietly and modestly, the Major had squandered resources on a lavish party.

And when I realized it wasn’t just food that soiled the bed and carpet, my anger turned to fury.

‘He wants me to clean up after his se-ual escapades. Disgusting beast.’

Apparently, my past self had never dealt with such messes. Lifting what was unmistakably his underwear with tongs, and seeing a semi-solid blob of bodily fluid drop to the floor, I couldn’t suppress my gag reflex.

“Ha…”

The Major, who had been watching me smoke, scoffed as if he was amazed.

“Acting like a virgin, huh? No, that can’t be. If you didn’t know what these stains were from, there’d be no reason to be disgusted. You’re disgusted because you know exactly what it is, not because you’re a virgin.”

The Major mocked and insulted me, then seemed offended as if he was the one insulted.

“Why would you need to gag? The Renner couple’s bed must look like this anyway.”

Responding would just play into his hands.

“Oh… Don’t tell me… you didn’t last night?”

Silence was another way he manipulated me.

“So young, beautiful, and desirable…”

He gestured obscenely, mimicking a grab at my chest. I suppressed the urge to shove the soiled underwear in his mouth, angrily stuffing the dirty linens into a laundry basket.

“…Lying in bed naked and nothing happened? Impossible. He just couldn’t, I guess?”

I needed to finish quickly and leave.

“Rize Einemann, be honest. Your husband can’t get it up, can he? That’s unfortunate. How should we console you?”

But even if I finished the cleaning early, like in the office, he might not let me go for hours. This time, in his bedroom.

Then he said something eerily aligned with my thoughts,

“I’m still up after shooting off ten rounds yesterday; how about I fill in for your unsatisfactory husband?”

I wanted to retort that his ‘sausage’ was too small to make any difference, but I held back. Rather than fearing his advances, I was more worried I’d lose control and shoot him.

“If I were your husband, I would have filled you up on Christmas Eve like a fat goose, making you utterly satisfied.”

He continued with his vulgar taunts, trying to provoke me.

“Fat pig.”

The thought that it was a sort of venting crossed my mind. Without showing any reaction, I continued to clean nonchalantly when a desk clock caught my eye, prompting me to ask,

“Isn’t it time for you to go to work?”

“Unfortunately for Lady Rize, who finds it unpleasant to share a room with a rude thug, even the military takes a break for Christmas, unless they’re on duty. And unluckily for you, I’m not on duty.”

So, it seems he plans to watch me finish cleaning. My hands began to slow, not wanting to find out what he might have in store once I was done.

“Don’t I get a gift?”

Seemingly bored with teasing me due to my lack of reaction, the Major changed the topic.

“In times as hard as these, gifts are a luxury, Major.”

“I thought maybe one of those socks you’ve been diligently knitting was for me. Disappointing.”

I had indeed considered it. Dislikable as the lecherous man was, making an enemy of someone in power would do me no favors.

But given his lecherous nature, had I given him socks, he might well have put them over his center, claiming they fit perfectly and proceeding to touch himself in front of me.

Given his behavior today, not doing it was the right choice.

‘How do I know that men use socks to touch themselves?’