Remzwick bowed and withdrew.
In the guest room, Ian Dalton was left alone. Sitting by the hearth, he naturally glanced at the chair opposite him where Remzwick had just been seated.
Normally, spending evenings by the hearth like this, his wife would always be sitting across from him—reading a book, embroidering, or reviewing ledgers.
Laura Pendleton was never anything less than beautiful, but when seated by the hearth, she was undeniably an angel with hidden wings.
With a somber expression, Ian stared at the empty chair across from him before walking to the bedside table and opening the first drawer. Inside was a neatly folded black shawl.
He took the shawl and returned to the hearth. Placing it on the empty chair opposite, he sat back down. The black shawl, which had always draped over Laura’s shoulders during her governess days, now filled the void where she should have been.
How he had envied that black shawl every time he saw Laura at Dunville Park, wrapped in its embrace. More than once, he had imagined himself holding her shoulders as the shawl did—absorbing her warmth and scent, brushing against her loose strands of hair, tickling slightly, slipping off her shoulders only to be gently pulled back by her touch.
If I couldn’t be her husband, I would have wanted to be that shawl.
When, by heaven’s grace, he had finally obtained the shawl, he tried not to show his joy in front of Laura, but his body trembled with happiness. Every night, thinking of her, he buried his face in the shawl, kissing it. He had practiced confessing his love to it dozens of times.
That was why, despite Laura’s gentle urging to dispose of it, he could never bring himself to part with it. During those days of aching, unrequited love, the shawl had been Laura’s stand-in.
And it still is.
In moments when he couldn’t cross to the bedroom where Laura was, having her shawl by his side was a blessing beyond measure.
I miss you, Laura.
He gazed at the piece of black fabric resting quietly on the chair and smiled sadly.
Knock, knock.
A knock came at the door. Ian recognized it was Laura from the rhythm and strength of the knocks alone.
As if to confirm his intuition, Laura’s voice followed.
“Ian, are you asleep?”
He quickly tucked the shawl back into the bedside table. If she were to suddenly enter and see it, it would be nothing short of disastrous.
As he walked to the table, the sound of his footsteps told Laura he wasn’t asleep.
“May I come in?”
Ian clenched his jaw. He longed to see Laura’s face, but he feared that seeing her would shatter his resolve.
“I’m tired. Let’s talk another time.”
A brief silence followed. Ian’s throat felt dry, and he poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher on the table.
“Just five minutes—would that be alright?”
Her voice was so sorrowful. His grip tightened on the glass.
“I know you’re angry with me. That’s why you don’t want to see my face. Isn’t it?”
“…”
“Then don’t look at me. Just turn away. I won’t feel hurt. I don’t even have the right to feel hurt. Just let me into the room. Let me be in the same space as you. Please.”
Ian’s body trembled. Laura was pleading.
I have to say no. For at least a few days, I shouldn’t see her. That way…
Why was it that the reasons, so clear before he returned home, now eluded him? His mind went blank, and a single truth rose above the emptiness, dominating his thoughts.
Laura is begging to be let in.
His lips moved of their own accord.
“Come in.”
Ian immediately returned to his seat and turned his gaze to the fireplace.
He didn’t have the strength to face her and express his anger. He couldn’t bring himself to say he was disappointed, that he couldn’t stand the sight of her, or that they needed to reconsider their union.
No matter what she said next, he would keep staring at the hearth. If he didn’t look at her, he could remain stern. He could reproach her for not trusting her husband enough.
The door creaked open with a soft groan.
Laura entered the room slowly. Ian expected her to sit in the chair across from him.
But Laura’s actions defied his expectations.
While he stared at the fireplace, Ian sensed something crouching at his feet. He turned his head instinctively and was stunned, his breath catching.
Laura was kneeling at his feet.
She reached out slowly, grasping his legs, and leaned her cheek against his thigh.
“Ian.”
Her voice echoed mournfully through the room.
“I was wrong.”
Laura gently rubbed her cheek against his leg.
“I should have asked for your help. It was my foolishness that kept me from doing so. I thought it was right to quietly handle anything that might upset you. I thought that was the way to protect our happiness.”
The fabric of his trousers grew damp where her cheek rested.
“With that arrogant mistake, I insulted you. Now I understand my fault.”
Her voice choked as she continued.
“I understand your anger. You must feel betrayed, and I must seem despicable. I’ve repented deeply. And I’ve made up my mind. From now on, I won’t keep anything from you. I’ll entrust everything to you. Like a little girl who can’t spell, like a geranium in a pot, I’ll live trusting only you. So, please…”
Laura tightly embraced his legs.
“Please forgive me.”
As she finished, Laura began to sob.
The damp patch on his trousers spread. Her small shoulders trembled against him, and her arms clung to him like a shipwrecked sailor reaching for a buoy.
Ian placed his hand on Laura’s head. Her small, round head fit perfectly in his palm. He gently stroked her hair.
Laura slowly lifted her head. Her tear-streaked face looked up at the husband who had been avoiding her gaze. Her eyes, brimming with tears, reflected his image.
Her eyes widened in surprise.
Only then did Ian realize his own face was wet.
“Ian…”
He roughly wiped his face with the back of his hand and pulled Laura up by her shoulders. She stood obediently. Ian sat her on his lap.
“Don’t ever do that again.”
He wiped her tears with the sleeve of his nightshirt and said,
“What you can’t hide from God, don’t hide from me. Don’t sacrifice yourself for me, and if anything troubles you, even a little, ask me to fix it. Understood?”
Laura nodded like an obedient girl.
“Good girl, my Laura.”
Ian kissed her cheek.
Laura wrapped her arms around his neck. Ian encircled her waist. They held each other tightly for a long while.
With his eyes closed, Ian felt his wife’s breath, her scent, her presence in his arms. The lovable essence of his wife, missed so dearly over the past four days.
Could he have stayed angry with her if she hadn’t been the first to seek forgiveness? Could he have ignored her or spoken of separation?
Impossible. If she had shown even the slightest hurt at his actions, he would have crumbled. The one kneeling and begging for forgiveness would have been him, not her.
Ian felt an overwhelming love for the wife in his arms.
His lips began to trace her cheek. His hands gently caressed her back. A thrill, like that of a bridegroom on his wedding night, stirred in his chest.
“Darling.”
“Yes?”
Ian’s lips moved down her jawline.
“I have something to say.”
His fingers searched for the buttons on her dress.
“Go ahead.”
“Before I do, could you… your hands…”
“My ears are open. Speak.”
His fingers found a button and unfasted it.
A soft sigh escaped Laura. Then she spoke.
“I’m pregnant.”
Ian’s hands froze.
Lifting his lips from her neck, he looked into her face. Her cheeks were slightly flushed.
His lips parted slowly. It was more shock than joy, like someone witnessing a train derail and crash at full speed.
“Say that again.”
“Our child is coming, Ian.”
He placed his hand on her lower abdomen.
“Here? There’s a child?”
“Yes.”
“Our child? Yours and mine?”
“Yes.”
His breathing grew ragged. It was sinking in. His face took on an expression of awe, like a Catholic beholding a weeping statue of the Virgin Mary.
Ian pulled Laura into a fierce embrace. Tears welled in his eyes again.
“Damn it. I’m so happy. I could die right now with no regrets.”
Laura chided him with a playful tone.
“If you die, what about me and our child?”
“You’re right. If I die, who’ll take care of you both?”
He murmured, rubbing his cheek against her shoulder.
“But I can’t describe it any other way. I’m happy enough to die.”
“If you keep saying scary things, the baby will get frightened.”
“Alright, I won’t. If you say not to, I won’t.”
Ian lifted his head.
“When will it be born? How long do we wait?”
“I asked Dr. Mackenzie, and it’s about seven weeks along. Eight months from now.”
“Eight months, and you’ll be a mother, and I’ll be a father?”
“Yes.”
Ian smiled, his face contorted as if he might cry.
“My angel, you can’t escape me now.”
Laura stroked his cheek.
“Blasphemy again.”
“I don’t care. Even God can’t take you away now. You have to be the mother of our child.”
“Do you really think I’m an angel?”
Ian nodded. Laura smiled softly.
“Your imagination is truly something.”
Her gentle fingers traced his face. The smooth, warm skin under her fingertips, the flawless contours of his face. Laura’s expression turned tearful. She had missed him so much over the past three days. She had longed to sit on his lap like this, to touch his face, so desperately she could have cried.
“Even if I were an angel, I wouldn’t go anywhere. I’d ignore God’s call. I don’t want a heaven without you.”
Laura leaned in slowly.
“My place is forever by your side.”
Their lips met. They lingered, their lips pressed together, feeling each other’s presence, their hearts entwined, their love reaffirmed. A kiss more passionate and intimate than any physical union, a merging of souls, continued for a long while.
Male lead is a Divorced Husband
She said to him: “Tell me, what makes you like me? I’ll change it!”
Liu Changning transmigrated into a female cannon fodder character in a female-dominant novel.
After reading the first half of the novel’s plot, the first thing she did upon transmigration was to divorce the Pan Jinlian-style male protagonist she had just married.
She indulged herself, pretending to be ugly and poor.
But as time passed, the way that man looked at her became more and more unusual…
Liu Changning was dumbfounded: Tell me, what makes you like me? I’ll change!
――
This lifetime, Pei Yuanshao was rejected by the same woman twice!
The first time, she drove him away. Forced by the situation, he endured the waves of anger in his heart, yielding and humbling himself.
That person lay slanted on a rocking chair, her sallow face emotionless: “If you don’t want a divorce, go cook!”
Pei Yuanshao’s face was dark and gloomy: “You!”
The second time, after the crisis in Jinling City was resolved, the new emperor sent someone to pick him up. He turned around, stammering: “I… I have to go. If you keep me…”
That person lay on the kang bed, her back to him, as if she had long anticipated this day, crisp and clear: “Goodbye!”
Pei Yuanshao was so angry his fingers trembled: “You… you!”
The mission of family and country made him restrain himself, averting his eyes and turning to leave this broken household.
Two years later, they met again. Seeing her ethereal face, his body shook like a sieve.
“She was originally a ‘she’!”
At the Qionglin Banquet, the top scholar of the imperial examination, a talented person with exceptional speech and conduct, all the unmarried young gentlemen from aristocratic families looked at her with shy and timid eyes.
The peerless imperial official Pei Yuanshao felt the anger in his heart erupt. He pointed at the woman surrounded by the crowd at the Qionglin Banquet, his thin lips slightly curled: “Little sister, I wants that person to be the wife-master of my Mingde Prince Manor.”
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