My Ex-Husband Came Back Crazy - Chapter 55

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 55
Chapter 6. A Lull (2)
I hated autumn.
The mere fact that it felt like a herald of winter’s approach was reason enough for me to despise this season.
“Celia. Are you all packed?”
“More or less.”
The day we were to depart for the Capital.
Among people bustling with preparations, I displayed the very pinnacle of laziness.
“Shall we board the carriage, then?”
Celia, who had been observing the ant-like frenzy around her, shuffled forward at his call.
Whether it was Lucius’s threat that proved effective or the Duke’s decision not to intervene, the preparations went smoothly.
As she climbed into the carriage, Lucius took the seat opposite.
“You didn’t eat much at breakfast.”
“I had a little…”
He casually opened a tin of cookies and offered it to her without comment. Celia silently took one and bit into it with a crunch.
“Our travels may delay lunch, so let’s eat a bit now.”
The man who had clashed so fiercely with his father seemed to have vanished. His countenance was remarkably composed—indeed, he almost looked carefree.
‘Independence, of all things. And with him, just the two of us.’
The thought had barely taken root when the carriage lurched violently.
Before she could brace herself, her body pitched sideways. Lucius caught her urgently.
Celia’s form, which had nearly hit the floor face-first, landed squarely in his arms instead.
“What on—Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, though—”
Before she could finish, Lucius tightened his grip on her and immediately turned toward the window. “What’s happened?”
His voice went cold, his jaw clenching visibly.
“U-um, sir.”
A hesitant voice drifted from outside the carriage.
“I think you’ll need to step out and see for yourself.”
Less than half a day had passed since our departure for the Capital.
A problem had arisen.
***
The road was impassable.
More precisely, it was flooded.
The recent rains had been relentless, and the roadway had become completely submerged. Rainwater pooled without draining, erasing the boundary between road and field entirely.
Our options were severely limited, and what options remained were nothing short of dire.
“I—I want to get down and walk.”
“We’re already halfway through. Just bear with it a little longer.”
His voice was gentle, yet Celia couldn’t bring herself to look up.
And with reason—she was currently slung over Lucius’s shoulder like a bundle of cargo.
‘Damn it all. This is infuriating!’
Of course Celia loathed the thought of wading through water. Lucius saw as much, gave it no further thought, and simply decided on an alternative: he picked her up bodily. With her upper half draped across his broad shoulders, her chest and ribs pressed firmly against his torso.
Without giving her a moment to struggle, he stepped directly into the water.
The murky surface split in a long wake beneath his boots.
Even on the shifting path, Celia instinctively gripped his back—steady, unswaying.
“Is this very uncomfortable?”
“…It’s absolutely wretched.”
“Mm, don’t say that.”
“I’d rather walk on my own.”
“That’s not an option.”
Lucius merely smiled and drew the arm supporting her waist a touch closer inward.
The adjustment was small, yet it brought immediate relief. Annoyingly so.
“Walk slowly, would you?”
“Are you frightened?”
“It’s the rocking.”
“Right, understood.”
Water split in his wake, ripples fanning across her vision. Waves that began at his feet spread outward, only to scatter again with each new step he took.
“…”
Each time the surface undulated, her body swayed with it.
Yet there was no fear of falling. After surrendering briefly to the sway, Celia lifted her head.
Behind them, servants and attendants waded carefully, trousers rolled to the knee. The procession stretched long, bags and boxes held high to avoid the water.
Not a soul escaped without getting soaked.
Save Celia alone.
Suddenly, she felt as though she were someone immensely precious.
Not because of her rank or station, but simply because she mattered. She seemed to be the only one crossing these waters untouched, held dry above them all.
“…Why did you suddenly decide to go for independence?”
Celia murmured from within the shelter of his arms, where her own warmth remained guarded.
“Perhaps. I thought we might prefer a place where we could be alone together.”
She didn’t answer at once.
Instead, after a long moment, she buried her face against his neck.
***
Nothing but soaked people remained.
Because of this, before the sun had even set, they decided to stop at a shabby inn near a small village to dry out and spend the night.
Lucius stood in the room toweling his wet hair, and his face looked somewhat at ease.
The fatigue that had accumulated over recent days seemed to have lifted, at least temporarily. A faint light had returned to what had been a haggard expression. Celia found herself simply watching him.
Perhaps sensing her gaze, he asked while draping the towel around his neck, “Aren’t you hungry?”
“That’s a question I should be asking you.”
“Mm?”
“You.”
Celia sat propped against the bed, watching him. “You skipped your snack because of the smell of fish.”
He gave a small laugh, flicking the last traces of moisture from his fingertips. “I did, didn’t I.”
“I’m going to have food brought up. You sit there.”
“Let me do it.”
“I will.”
In the end, they had an early dinner.
It was a modest meal—nothing but bread and stew—but after such a long day, it was more than sufficient. Once finished eating, her body slowly began to unwind.
Yet unlike Celia, Lucius did not rest. He moved about constantly.
Seeing to people, sorting through the wet baggage, checking over unfinished business one more time—every motion was efficient, without fuss.
‘Doesn’t he ever tire?’
Sleep began to weigh heavily on her eyes. To fight off the fatigue, Celia found herself quietly watching him as he bustled about, unlike herself.
Then, quite suddenly, her mood took an unexpected turn.
‘I’m bored. Stop moving around.’
The thought had surfaced in an instant, and the shock of it lingered long.
It felt as though I—Celia Brickwell—had just thought something I shouldn’t about Lucius Windmere.
‘No, at this point it doesn’t really matter anymore, but…!’
Even so.
Unfamiliar emotions remained difficult.
“Mm? What are you doing just sitting there?”
There were only the two of them in the room. They’d left the wet coats, the baggage, the chaos—all of it outside the door. He pulled a table closer to the bed’s edge and drew near.
“Lucius.”
“Tell me. I’m always ready to hear what you have to say.”
“Is there… nothing you want from me?”
The question seemed to catch him off guard. The man who had been leaning toward her, propped on one hand beside her hip, went still.
“Is there something you wish to give me?”
Was this that emotion?
She wasn’t certain, but one thing was clear: just as he had held her and stepped into that cold water, Celia wanted to give him something similar.
“Tell me what you desire.”
Unfortunately, Celia had no talent whatsoever for giving gifts to anyone.
“How would I know what I desire?”
“Is it difficult?”
“Well…”
His eyebrows furrowed slightly, his expression delicate and subtle. When she swallowed hard, one side of his cheek twitched visibly. Those beautiful green eyes held a tenacity that defied easy explanation.
“Is it truly so difficult?”
“…?”
His hand rose gently to cradle her cheek. Large fingers spread across her face, his thumb moving down to press firmly against her lips.
Her eyes simply blinked slowly several times amid the flushed skin. Before that undefended gaze, Lucius released a long breath.
“Lucius?”
“Call me more tenderly.”
“…Lu.”
“Yes. Like that.”
His fingers traced along her lip line, then slipped gently into her mouth.
Though unfamiliar, it was a motion she knew. Her eyelids fluttered as she instinctively bit down lightly on his fingertip, gazing up at him. At that unguarded sight, his Adam’s apple moved sharply.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“…”
“I’d want to lay you down, even on this worn-out bed.”
A precarious tension took hold.
He wrapped his arm around her back, drawing her waist firmly against his own.
“When we reach the Capital. You’ll have only me left, and I’ll have only you.”
His breath fell against her neck, and the warmth of it was maddening.
“We’ll spend at least this year there. And when spring comes—next spring—we’ll find a proper house. A place for us both to live.”
Next spring.
Lucius seemed lost in thought, continuing to speak, but Celia could only offer sparse replies.
Something she had forgotten—or perhaps willfully ignored—had resurfaced.
Winter was coming soon…
Which meant the deadline for the divorce documents they had promised to submit was drawing near.
A noble’s divorce was no simple matter. Least of all the union of House of Brickwell and House of Windmere. The preparations had consumed considerable time and resources, and if this opportunity was lost, there would be no next time.
“Celia.”
Only a few months remained.
“When we settle into the residence, should we… merge our rooms?”
The moment of choice was drawing near.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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