At the soirée I attended for the first time in a while, I was looking for my husband. My body, exhausted from a lack of sleep, soon became overwhelmed by the mixture of perfume wafting from the elegantly dressed ladies and the smell of wine, making me feel unwell.
Feeling guilty toward my husband, I thought I’d leave early again today. Just as that thought crossed my mind, I spotted him on the balcony.
— Davis.
Before I could call out to him, I heard my husband let out a deep sigh.
“I’m really getting tired of this…”
It seemed Davis was confiding in a male friend, who draped an arm around his shoulder, saying, “If it’s work complaints, I’m all ears.”
“My work is going fine. It’s my wife… Rosa, that’s the problem.”
Hearing him say my name in such a dark tone, I forgot how to breathe.
“Your wife? She’s a beautiful woman, isn’t she?”
Davis shook his head at his friend’s comment.
“You get tired of beauty in just three days. Besides, even though she looks good, her personality… Rosa is too clingy.”
“What’s this, a love complaint?” his friend laughed, but Davis fixed him with a somber gaze.
“She comes to me every morning and evening, reporting on work like, ‘What should we do about today’s task? What about tomorrow’s?’ It’s been three years since we got married. She should be handling the work on her own by now! And even when we attend social gatherings, she always feels unwell and wants to leave early. She doesn’t seem to go to tea parties either, even though socializing is a noble’s duty… All she’s interested in is clinging to me. I’m really fed up.”
Davis leaned heavily against the balcony railing, clearly wearied.
“Come on now, she loves you,” his friend said, but Davis replied in a flat tone.
“Even love has its limits. When it’s like this, it’s suffocating. I want a more refreshing love, one that gives me some space.”
Hearing my husband’s unbelievable words, I stumbled, causing a small clatter.
Davis turned around at the sound and, upon seeing me, momentarily had a look of “Oh no” on his face, but his eyes soon grew cold.
“Rosa, were you eavesdropping? Do you really want to be with me that badly?”
“Hey, stop that,” his friend tried to intervene, but Davis shook off his hand and glared at me.
“Stop clinging to me any more than this! You need to grow up!”
His friend hurriedly apologized, “I’m sorry, ma’am! I let Davis drink. He’s always been bad with alcohol…”
“I know,” I replied calmly. “Davis once said, ‘When I drink, I strangely start saying what’s really on my mind.’”
At my words, his friend’s face paled.
“Davis, I’ll go home first,” I said.
We had come by carriage together, but I doubted he would want to ride with me now.
“Goodbye.”
Even as I said that, Davis didn’t come after me.
Somewhere deep inside, I had hoped he would chase after me, apologizing, “I’m sorry, I was drunk! None of it was true!” Realizing this hope, I laughed at myself.
“I really am such an annoying woman, aren’t I?”
As I climbed into the carriage of the count’s house, the tears I had been holding back spilled out.
Davis’s words from when we first met echoed in my mind.
— Although ours is a political marriage, I feel like we can respect each other and get along well. Slowly but surely, we’ll nurture an honest love together.
I had felt so happy to be married to such a kind and warm person. But it seems I was the only one who thought I was happy. I was probably the only one who loved and cherished him.
I had always dressed in ways that Davis liked, just to please him. I even worked tirelessly for the count’s house, sacrificing sleep, which left me no time for soirées or tea parties. I had grown distant from my friends, but I thought it was worth it if it made Davis happy.
That’s why I had been so glad when he came home, eager to talk to him even just a little, and so I had clung to him.
“Ah, truly, just as he said…”
I finally realized I had been a burden to my husband.
“I’m sorry…”
I don’t expect to be forgiven for everything I’ve done, but from now on, I will become the wife you’ve always wanted.
I won’t cling to you, I won’t gaze at you with those intense eyes, and I won’t report on work.
If I do that, will you forgive me?
When I returned home alone in the carriage, the household staff seemed surprised, but no one said anything.
That night, I locked my bedroom door. Then, I buried myself in the bed and cried my heart out, filled with regret. I cried and cried until I was exhausted, eventually falling asleep without realizing it.
The next day, when I woke up, my head throbbed terribly from crying too much. My eyes and face seemed swollen as well.
The maid knocked on the door, but I didn’t unlock it.
Normally, I would have started getting ready by this time, hoping Davis would find me even a little beautiful. Surely, my efforts must have been just as annoying to him as everything else.
“I’m not feeling well today.”
From the other side of the door, the maid, confused, asked, “Madam, what about breakfast with the master?”
It was understandable she was confused, as I always looked forward to having breakfast with Davis every day. Even on days when I wasn’t feeling well, I never once missed it.
But I wasn’t going to push myself anymore. Today, I truly felt awful, and my face was too swollen to be seen in public. Besides, Davis would likely prefer not seeing me at all.
“I have a headache. Please bring breakfast to my room later.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh, and…”
I grabbed the stack of documents I had brought into the bedroom, unlocked the door, and handed them to the maid.
“Give these to Davis. He’ll know what they are.”
“Understood.”
After bowing politely, the maid left.
I sighed, locked the door again, and lay back down on the bed.
“I won’t push myself anymore to earn Davis’s praise, staying up late and sacrificing sleep…”
The ideal wife Davis wanted was clearly not “a wife who handles his work for him.”
“How was I supposed to know that his ideal was a countess who actively participated in soirées and tea parties, focusing on socializing?”
From now on, I would take care of my sleep, pay attention to my appearance, and maybe even get some new dresses. Sighing once again, I let myself drift into a peaceful sleep.
* * *
I was awakened by a rough knocking on the door.
I didn’t know how long I’d slept, but the sun was already high in the sky. It had been a long time since I had gotten this much rest, and I felt refreshed.
“Rosa! What on earth are you thinking!?”
Davis’s angry voice came from the other side of the door. I got out of bed and approached the door, but I didn’t unlock it. I was too afraid to show him my unprepared appearance, fearing he would despise me even more.
“What do you mean?”
“Why didn’t you come to breakfast!?”
“I told the maid I wasn’t feeling well.”
“Oh, so this is just another one of your tricks to get my attention. Honestly, you never change…”
Listening to Davis’s exasperated tone, I felt a strange sensation.
Was my husband really the kind of man who wouldn’t even ask, “Are you okay?” when I said I was unwell?
Now that I thought about it, he used to say “I love you” every day when we first got married, but I couldn’t even remember the last time I heard those words.
In fact, it seemed like he hadn’t even smiled at me recently.
He was probably standing on the other side of the door, looking irritated, as usual.
“And Rosa, what is this paperwork?”
“What do you mean, what is it?”
“Are you really handing off your work to me as some sort of retaliation for yesterday?”
I was filled with disbelief.
“Davis, that’s your work.”
“What?”
The papers I gave to the maid this morning were tasks Davis had asked me to handle about a year ago, when he had fallen ill. He had said, “Just take care of it for a little while.”
It was related to the management of the estate. It may have been easy for Davis, but it had been extremely difficult for me. I had stayed up late studying, barely managing to handle it.
Even though Davis had said it was temporary, he never resumed the work after he recovered, and a year had passed. Though I had grown somewhat accustomed to it, it was still very challenging, and I had been in poor health all year due to lack of sleep.
That’s why I was eager to hand the work back to Davis as soon as possible. Every morning and night, I’d ask him when I could return it, checking what to do with the tasks.
“Davis, could it be that you forgot you asked me to handle this work? Even though I confirmed it with you every single day?”
I had submitted the documents I painstakingly prepared to Davis, asking him to review them and discussing what to do next on a daily basis.
There was no response from the other side of the door. It seemed Davis had genuinely forgotten.
The kind, warm, and wonderful husband I thought I had apparently had a forgetful side. And the words that had once sparkled like jewels before our marriage had only been empty promises.
It felt as if I had finally awoken from a long dream.
All this time, I had been chasing after a perfect husband that only existed in my imagination. No wonder Davis found me burdensome.
The presence outside the door disappeared. Davis left without saying a word.
“He doesn’t even apologize… What have I been seeing in him all this time?”
I let out a small yawn, then rang the bell to summon the maid. From today on, I would focus only on my own work and enjoy a more leisurely life. The thought made me smile naturally.
* * *
[Davis’s Perspective]
As I watched my wife Rosa walk away unsteadily from the soirée, I sighed.
Knowing her, she was probably hoping I would come after her.
When we first met, I had found her desire for my love endearing, but three years into our marriage, I wished she would calm down a little.
To be honest, I had grown tired of my wife constantly clinging to me.
The friend who had been listening to my complaints said, “Hey, are you sure you’re okay? Maybe you should apologize to her…” but I just smiled and replied, “I’m fine.”
“Rosa loves me too much. Hopefully, this will make her give me some space.”
At that moment, I genuinely believed that. If Rosa would just stop clinging to me so much and become a bit more mature, that would be enough for me.
That’s all I wanted.
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