Sick Husband's Contract Wife - Chapter 56
“It would be great to see you next time with the Duke. You two would look great in a picture.”
Paula said as she took the signed order form from me. I just smiled as a response.
Paula was friendly and good with people.
It wasn’t typical for someone to always say nice things.
Still, she wasn’t completely fake either.
She smiled at the right time to match the mood, which made the person feel good about spending money.
I probably wouldn’t see her again after this.
The dresses I had made today were more than enough to get me through the rest of my time in this house.
Obviously, if I were still living by then.
After Paula left, Rona cleaned up the room and said with excitement, “When you meet the master in your new dresses, he will be very happy.”
“Is he going to?”
I gave a sad smile. I could only remember his cold blue eyes looking at me.
I thought we were getting closer, but we moved apart again like a butterfly that’s almost caught.
Of course, my goal as I got closer to him was to save my own life while trying to save his.
But that didn’t mean it was wrong in every case.
I didn’t want to kill him; I was trying to save both of us.
How in the world can I show him I’m doing this for him?
Of course, my main goal is to keep myself safe, but in the end, I also want to save him.
But how can I convince him if he never stops doubting me… How can I help the both of us?
I thought about different ways to solve the problem for a long time, but I couldn’t come up with an answer.
‘Should I bring up the contract in a direct way?’
If I said, ‘I’ll agree to the divorce as long as you help me help you to get better,’ would he believe me?
Then, would he rush to Camilla to talk to her?
Would he get mad at her for making such a deal about our wedding? Or… He might grow to dislike me even more.
I was the one who agreed to the deal and signed it, after all.
Likely even before that,
The contract would be instantly canceled, and Camilla would probably try to get me committed to a mental hospital by saying I was crazy.
‘What do you want me to do?’
I really don’t know, to be honest.
What can I do to help Amoide? How can I get Amoide to help me help him?
At least I didn’t have bad motives, and I’d heard from Raymond that Amoide’s skin and overall health had gotten much better. I won’t deny, of course, that I was behind the somewhat exaggerated stories that spread about him while I was trying to look out for his health.
‘Then I should be accountable.’
I chose to think about complicated things in a simple way.
If I did something wrong, I should say I’m sorry and try to make him feel better until he does.
That’s how I would keep working on helping him live a long life.
But it’s been a few days since I’ve seen him. I heard that he has been locked in his room and doesn’t come out very often.
Everyone said he rarely goes for walks or gets out in the sun.
He spends the whole day locked up in his dark room.
Jean also said with a sigh that he hasn’t been eating well.
Everything went back to how it used to be.
…This is not good.
“I’m going to go see Amoide.”
“Then shall I come with you?”
Rona stood up and looked upset.
“No, I’ll go alone.”
I made a hand signal and left the room.
* * *
When I got to Amoide’s room, I was met by a maid whose face looked like Cerberus watching the gates to the underworld.
Not Emma, but one of the maids who worked near her.
“Uh, young lady, the master has said he doesn’t want to see anyone…”
She looked like she was very upset, but her face was full of irritation and disdain.
This was a big change from how they were when I often went for walks with Amoide and spent time with him.
At least they tried to hide how angry they were back then.
The change in attitude is very scary.
“Yeah, I understand. Please go.”
I gave the maid guarding the door to Amoide’s room a gentle push.
But she was firm in what she said.
“He said that he doesn’t want to meet anyone.”
This time, Emma came out of nowhere and quickly stood in my way while she talked.
Her head was stiffly bowed as if to emphasize what she was saying, and she was staring at me.
Oh, how did I ever put up with this in the past?
The wave of guilt made me let out a deep sigh. In fact, there was no reason at all to keep going.
Camilla was the person I made a deal with, and Amoide was the person who was part of that deal.
Basically, his mother and his wife, even though it was only on paper, had made a deal about him without his permission, so it was reasonable that he didn’t like me.
Because of this, I was able to take some of his heartbreaking comments like “Get lost” and “Stop pretending.”
Maybe it was my way of getting rid of my own guilt.
But Emma was not like that.
My husband was the only person I should feel sorry for and bow down to.
Camilla used me to help her reach her goal.
I decided to help in exchange for money, so there was no need for anyone to be in charge or more to blame.
“I’m the wife of the person who said that.”
I gave a cool answer.
“Shouldn’t you act nicely to me?”
As I spoke, the girl looked at me with wide eyes. I lowered my voice as a warning and to scare her.
“The Master… Yes, Amoide doesn’t want to talk to anyone. But I’m not one of them.”
I already knew that he didn’t want to see me more than anyone else.
Still, I spoke with a confident tone and my head held high.
“Don’t get in the way. How many times must I say it?”
Emma looked down and said something as she moved out of the way.
“I have no idea what’s going to happen.”
After opening the door, I brushed past her and walked in, shutting the door behind me with a thud.
As soon as the door shut, there was a strange silence in the room.
From the outside, the room felt like it was in a different world that could only be reached through a physical door.
I called his name in a quiet voice. But no answer came from inside.
“Are you out there?”
Even after I spoke again, there was a complete lack of sound.
The room was so quiet that I started to wonder if anyone was in there.
It was dark in the room. Even though it was noon, not a single ray of light came into this room.
The blinds looked like they were doubled up, making it hard for any light to get in.
‘He did this a lot,’ I thought.
Since I moved into the house two years ago, there were times when his health got much worse.
During those times, he wouldn’t leave his room and would turn it into a darkroom.
I waved my hand in front of my face a few times, and then I stumbled forward.
The air around me was cold.
“Why is it so freezing?”
His room was the hottest place in the house. It faced south and was well-lit.
Still, it had a chill that was colder than the warehouses that were built looking north.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to see me,” I said.
I just kept going.
The room was so big that I couldn’t tell if I was going in the right way.
“But if you do this, your health will get worse.”
I let out a sigh of relief when I saw a faint shape.
I could see him in bed, all curled up. Still, he didn’t say anything.
I called his name once more, but he didn’t move.
I’ve had enough.
I walked to the window and threw open the curtains.
I heard a faint swear word from behind me, but I pretended I hadn’t heard it and talked to him quietly.
“The sun is so nice, so why did you keep everything closed?”
Still, he didn’t say anything. It seems like he wants to start a fight at this point.
Who did he think he was, to be so closed-minded?
Could the late Amoide’s father have been the same way?
Did he keep quiet when he was mad, which drove Camilla crazy?
This is too much, even if I’m just a temporary wife.
I tried to hold back my anger and face him.
I saw Amoide curled up, tightly wrapped in white sheets.
Blonde hair sticking out of the sheets showed that he was there.
I almost laughed for a split second.
“This is something even a worm wouldn’t do. What’s this?”
I walked up to him and put my hand on the sheet that was covering him.
The skin under my hand felt strange when I touched it.
How come it was so hot? Was it because he was wrapped in a blanket and his body temperature had gone up?
But it seemed much hotter than a person’s average body temperature. It almost seemed like it could go through the sheet.
There was something off.
“Are you sleeping?”
No way. Then who was swearing just now? I used both hands to shake his body.
“Oh my God!”
When I saw the face between the sheets as they slid down, I screamed.
When I touched, he whimpered. His body was heavy, but it didn’t fight back.
“Wake up, wake up. Are you listening?”
I gave him a loud slap on the cheek, but his closed eyes didn’t seem to move.
Instead, a sound that was almost a moan came out of his barely parted lips.
He had a fever, and it made his face red and drop.