After I Died, My Husband Went Mad [EN]: Chapter 88

What exactly is family? Ryan often pondered this while assisting Diheart.

‘Were the Lash family and Marquis Lims truly family to the Duke?’

Did he genuinely love them?

Ryan watched the torches light up the darkness one by one, hoping that wasn’t the case. If it were, it would mean Diheart considered those who didn’t love him as family.

“Move to your positions.”

Ryan sighed briefly and nodded to the knights. Yesterday, he had heard that Marquis Lims was leading his forces towards Hillend Hall.

And an hour ago, a patrolling knight had not returned. Ryan immediately sensed it. Today was the day Marquis Lims would raid Hillend Hall.

It was a day he had been waiting for, but he couldn’t shake off the bitter feeling that filled his chest. It was clear who Lims’ excessive actions were for.

‘He values the Lash family more than the Duke.’

Instead of sighing, Ryan tightened his grip on the sword hilt. Soon, a knight approached silently and whispered in his ear. Ryan nodded and glared into the darkness beyond.

The night air was thick with tension, and Marquis Lims and his knights were hidden in the shadows beyond the reach of the lights.

Crack. The tense atmosphere shattered as someone stepped on a bush. Marquis Lims, hidden in the shadows, shouted as if he had been waiting for this moment.

“Retake the tower!”

*Retake*, how like him. Ryan smiled coldly and raised his torch.

“Don’t let the rats take the prisoners!”

“What, this…!”

A chaotic night began. The faces of the people, distorted by the torches illuminating every corner of Hillend Hall, appeared and disappeared.

“Chase after them! Contact those guarding the tower!”

Ryan shouted demonstratively and roughly chased after Marquis Lims. His sword drew brilliant arcs as he swept through Marquis Lims’ knights, but that was all.

‘Now, hurry and take the Lash family and run away.’

That was all he wanted.

* * *

Unlike the chaotic night at Hillend Hall, the night at Supredi was quiet and gloomy.

‘Another day is passing without anything happening.’

Diheart didn’t come to find her after all. Even setting aside the fact that Wartz had arrived earlier than expected, his actions of avoiding showing himself to her were inexcusable.

“Haa……”

Her mind was complicated, and she couldn’t sleep. Was he going to continue avoiding her like this? Was she not to expect a proper apology from him after all?

‘Is this all you amount to?’

The night deepened, and she couldn’t fall asleep. Sebelia tossed and turned before finally getting up to boil water.

Sizzle-

At the sound of steam escaping, Sebelia took out tea from the cupboard. It was a tea that helped with sleep, one she had bought with Claude at the market some time ago.

The series of steps—pouring water and waiting for the tea to steep—calmed Sebelia’s chaotic mind to some extent. That’s why she was surprised by the unexpected sound and almost dropped her cup.

Knock knock.

Someone was knocking on the door. The hesitant, cautious knocks continued. Tap, tap. Sebelia slowly approached the door as the sounds echoed at intervals.

It felt like she could feel a breath. A quiet, tense breath, but a sigh that felt somewhat damp brushed past her ear, making Sebelia shiver.

“Who is it?”

It wasn’t a question but a confirmation. The breath beyond the door stopped. Sebelia was certain as she gripped the doorknob. It was definitely Diheart. The coldness returned to her blue eyes, and the resentment and anger that had been rising in her chest quickly subsided.

He had finally come. Sebelia remained silent for a long time, making Diheart on the other side impatient, before asking again.

“Please tell me who you are.”

“…It’s me.”

A fragile voice, as if it would break, pierced through the crack in the door.

“It’s me, Bella.”

Diheart placed his hand on the firmly closed door. The pale tips of his fingers scratched at the brown wood as if trying to dig into it. However, Sebelia beyond the door returned silence instead of an answer.

So Diheart had to gather his tangled voice once more.

“The man who made a foolish apology, not knowing what he did wrong, just trying to escape the pain in front of him.”

“……”

“If it’s okay… can you open the door?”

No answer came. Moonlight fell on his profile as he stood blankly in the silent hallway.

He suddenly turned his head to look around. A desolate hallway, cold air, a foolish man standing blankly in front of a firmly closed door. Everything was terribly messed up.

He would rather hang himself than accept this as reality. But Diheart knew he couldn’t. Because she was beyond this door.

“Bella.”

Calling her name, which was now like a labyrinth to him, Diheart trembled his eyelashes. Bella was beyond this door. Not Sebelia Weden, nor Sebelia Inverness, but Bella.

But what use was such a distinction?

‘I never knew the real you for a single moment.’

He hadn’t even tried to know. Under the hollow name of husband and wife, he had done nothing, waiting for her to approach, and eventually ruined everything.

“You know, I……”

Was he trying to make excuses? A terrible realization split his heart in two.

A groan leaked out. Diheart tightened his jaw. It felt like the fire burning inside him would burst out of his throat at any moment.

‘What right do I have?’

Diheart recalled the report from the spy he had sent to the center. And he went over the life of the person named Sebelia written in it once more. Then, unbearable pain turned his insides out.

‘Damn it.’

In the past, the ‘Sebelia Weden’ he knew was the beloved youngest daughter of the Weden Marquis family. A daughter so precious that she was not shown outside the mansion despite being a bastard [illegitimate child], and a treasure they didn’t want to hand over to Inverness until the very end.

‘Sebelia Inverness’ was the same. A naive noble who grew up without lacking anything and became a duchess, ignorant of the ways of the world.

Even if he became close to Sebelia and gave her his heart, his impression of her never deviated from that frame. And finally, on the day he was caught scheming behind the scenes with that foolish head, Diheart even felt a sense of liberation.

He seemed to have been angry but secretly thought that the game was turning in his favor, thinking that he could easily ensnare her without having to worry anymore.

Without properly seeing her suffering before his eyes, he presumed that her tears were crocodile tears [insincere display of sorrow], arbitrarily evaluated and judged her, and accordingly issued dispositions at his discretion.

‘Not even knowing that you regarded marriage with me as an escape.’

Not knowing that your heart towards me was genuine, not even thinking about knowing. He pushed her away like that. Isolating her, making her heart bruise with guilt, and gradually making her suffocate.

‘I.’

He himself had done that. He had blocked the breath of the woman who had lived her whole life holding her breath. Even coldly rejecting a single word of courage, making her unable to even lift her head in humiliation.

“Ugh……”

And all of that came back to him as a price. Diheart realized that he was already clenching both fists tightly. Fresh blood flowed down his wrist from the nails digging into the inside of his palms.

A cold realization swept through his head and emptied his chest.

‘Do I dare ask her to open the door?’

Wasn’t the request to find out why he was sorry, in fact, a message to realize his situation and never appear in front of her again?

Diheart felt a great shock, as if he had been hit in the back of the head with a hammer. Yes, why didn’t he know? He laughed at his foolish actions. If he were her, he would never want to see his face again.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

His parched lips moved roughly. A hoarse voice barely leaked out through his swollen throat.

“I think I was temporarily insane.”

The man, who didn’t even deserve to shed tears, bit his lip, ashamed even as he let out a wet voice. A voice like a ray of light pierced his eardrums.

“Wait.”

The sound of ungreased hinges moving was heard, and a handful of soft, warm light scattered in the hallway, which had only been filled with lonely shadows and tepid moonlight.

“Diheart.”

And Diheart realized that Sebelia’s hair was turning golden again. Her brown hair, which slightly passed her shoulders, was gradually fading.

It was a color that couldn’t be hidden, like the sun at noon. A brilliant golden color, like sprouting seedlings, shone under the soft brown. And a trembling voice, as if embarrassed, soaked Diheart’s ears.

“Why… why are you crying?”

So this was tears. Diheart belatedly realized that the shimmering light on the rippling surface was not from Sebelia but from tears. Misery sprang up from the bottom and rang in his head.

“Bella, I. I.”

The tears that had been pooling flowed down. Like a lake where the dam had collapsed, like a broken glass of water, the heart that had been filled to the limit poured out with sadness. He came into the room unsteadily and shamelessly dared to open his mouth.

“I didn’t know.”

“……”

“But I now know that even that is my fault.”

Where had so many tears been hidden in this man? Sebelia, who had locked the door and turned around, stared at him with bewildered eyes as he suddenly shed tears.