My Ex-Husband Came Back Crazy - Chapter 65

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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 65
Chapter 7. The Source (5)
The Terrace was a semicircular structure attached to the east side of the Grand Banquet Hall.
Celia, having dragged Lucius inside in haste, shoved him against the railing.
The late-autumn garden visible beyond his back was more than sufficient to showcase the reputation of the Wexley Marquis Residence. Plane trees half-stripped of branches, gravel paths gleaming silver in the light of lanterns.
The flame inside the glass cover danced and trembled.
The light, exhaling yellow and stretching their shadows long, was undeniably beautiful, but it was not enough to break through the tension between them.
“Have you lost your mind? Are you drunk?”
Lucius, trapped between her arms, straightened his head from its tilted angle.
His response came a beat slower than usual. His gaze, as though muddled, lost focus for a moment before settling back on her.
“A little.”
This is… madness!
His breathing, normally so meticulously composed, had grown ragged.
Celia pressed her fingers to her forehead and took a step back.
“You… you hold your liquor well!”
“I usually do. But it seems I overdid it today.”
The shadow of his lashes falling across cheeks flushed deeper than usual was alluring, and his unfocused gaze carried the languid quality of someone met in the dead of night. As he blinked and exhaled shallow breaths, she froze like someone who had witnessed something she ought not to have.
Celia studied him from several angles before drawing closer by the distance she had just created between them.
“How drunk do you seem to be?”
“Mmm… I’m not quite sure.”
She pressed the water cup she had been holding into his hand at once. Lucius, evidently parched, drained it greedily.
“Who do I look like to you right now?”
She reached out and waved her hand lightly before his eyes.
He laughed softly, then grasped her wrist and pulled her hand down. Even through the haze of intoxication, his touch remained oddly meticulous.
“You don’t need to ask such things.”
……
“No matter how drunk I am, I couldn’t mistake you for anyone else.”
The wind blew. The hem of his outer robe brushed against the edge of her skirt.
Lucius Windmere, who always ran warm, now burned hotter and more intensely.
“How can you be so beautiful.”
“… Me?”
“Yes. You.”
……
“When I heard you were to be my wife. You have no idea how happy it made me.”
Does he not remember rushing over in a pale panic when our marriage was settled?
Of course he wouldn’t remember.
Because he doesn’t, we’ve come to this point.
“How did you end up drinking so much?”
He of all people, whose restraint was second nature, to have emptied so many cups—it was unlike him to be drunk.
He did not answer immediately.
She looked up as though to press for a reply, and he blinked once. The iris had seemed vivid just a moment before, but whether it was a trick of perception, his eyes reddened at the edges.
“I heard something.”
Before she could harbor doubt, he continued.
“What did you hear?”
Celia’s voice took on a careful tone.
Lucius, catching the shift, lowered his head. Moonlight reflected on the railing grazed finely across his eyes.
“I…”
Lucius began but closed his mouth.
Celia, as though urging him to continue, shook his hand with a puzzled expression.
Lucius, retrieving from his already-blurring memory the conversation he had shared with his “friends” moments before, recalled their words.
“The rumor didn’t start from the beginning.”
“Just talk that your wife might be with child? That was all there was. No one intended it, and… as you know, the two of you changed suddenly. It was a reasonable conjecture.”
Those tracing back the origin of this entire affair had, at some point, lowered their voices.
“But then suddenly someone says something different, right?”
“That your wife attended Eures Hall. That she was seen mingling with unfamiliar men there.”
“And then suspicion grew about the true father of your wife’s child? In any case, that must be how it went.”
After first clarifying that Celia had not gone to Eures Hall alone—that he too had attended—Lucius asked carefully.
“Do you think we can find out who started the rumor?”
Pinpointing the source of a rumor was not an easy task.
Yet the men he called “friends” were not dull when it came to information. It occurred to him that perhaps the original “Lucius Windmere” had kept them at his side precisely for such purposes.
“Of course, we’ve narrowed it down somewhat.”
“Then could you share it with me? Of course, I would be happy to repay your favor. For instance… the Navy supply contract. I could have your House’s name added to the bidding roster.”
“…Well. I won’t refuse. The thing is—”
The man, who had paused, at last opened his mouth.
“That bastard Fahrenheit. The rumor seems to have started within the group he runs around with.”
Lord Fahrenheit.
Celia’s former suitor candidate, and the one who had led them to Eures Hall in the first place.
‘That name coming up here of all places.’
At the time, they had not known what manner of place Eures Hall was. But Fahrenheit had known.
If he had deliberately taken them there, then a natural question followed. What was he hoping to gain from such an act? What was his aim?
Soon all such questions converged into a single answer. The purpose was obvious enough.
Celia.
He regarded her quietly.
Standing beneath the moonlight, she looked like a fairy. She seemed like something that could not be easily tainted, yet at the same time, she was striking enough to be coveted by anyone.
At the same moment, his vision wavered once.
“…?”
“Lucius.”
Seeing him sway, Celia called his name urgently. Lucius steadied himself and fixed his gaze upon her.
Then, as though seized by impulse, his hand rose carefully along her jawline.
“May I kiss you?”
Celia, who had been waiting for Lucius’s answer, immediately furrowed her brow.
Even knowing her reaction, Lucius could not contain the surging emotion.
Sickeningly jealous.
Over nothing more than a former suitor.
A man who meant nothing to her had pierced his throat like a thorn.
Even knowing he had no right.
With a body made filthy by infidelity, did he deserve to touch her like this? Already having dragged her to the Terrace under the guise of drunkenness, he confessed it too late.
Unaware of the misunderstanding deepening with each passing day in Lucius’s mind, Celia coldly pushed his hand away.
“No. I won’t.”
“Why?”
“It’s my choice. And right now, you don’t appeal to me.”
The warmth that had been coloring him gently vanished in an instant.
An impulse that would normally have been suppressed at once now hovered precariously on the edge, trembling unnaturally. Desire, jealousy, and self-loathing tangled together and surged like a heavy wave.
“Just have some more water for now…”
Celia tried to move away from him.
He reflexively seized her wrist.
And he kissed her on the mouth.
“Mmph!”
Celia’s eyes widened.
She pressed against his shoulders urgently to push him away, but his large frame did not budge an inch as he deepened the kiss.
His lips covered hers, slowly changing the angle. His prominent nose bumped against hers, their heads tilted, and his thumb gently supported her chin from below.
The tip of his tongue grazed and retreated. Lucius, who usually kissed with a savoring quality, now devoured her greedily.
His hand, having somehow risen along her waist, paused. His palm, flat against her belly, caused her waist to arch.
“No… Ah!”
He paid no heed to her brief refusal.
Two bodies rubbed against each other violently.
“Lucius, Lucius Windmere!”
Celia pushed at him, struck him, shoved against him, but Lucius remained unmoved.
His great height and solid frame confined her effortlessly. His arms, bracing her lower back, controlled her movements.
Before long, the cold metal of the railing met her back. His body heat descended upon her.
“Haah… No, Ah!”
It was her first time seeing him refuse to yield even when she protested, and it left her breathless.
Never, not once, had he been like this…
Since their childhood, when they had rolled on the ground fighting like animals, Lucius had at least never used force to suppress her or try to overpower her.
That was what made this moment so unbearable.
Celia thrashed.
Her feet kicked at the air, her balance lost. The arm supporting her beneath her hips tightened.
“Haah. Good, Celia.”
With his upper lip pressed to hers, he whispered densely in an intoxicated voice.
His unfocused eyes curved voluptuously.
“With you like this, all my worries become meaningless.”
Celia gasped for breath.
She regarded him with eyes that mixed shock and fury. Just as Celia opened her mouth to vent her anger—
“If only you would stay by my side…”
Lucius’s words grew slurred.
His eyes slowly closed. The strength in his grip loosened, and his weight tilted down upon her.
Celia found herself sitting on the Terrace floor, pinned beneath him.
“What…?”
From her mouth, prepared to unleash anger, came a bewildered question instead.
His back rose and fell with even breathing. Only a beat too late did Celia realize that Lucius had fallen asleep as though knocked unconscious, and she clenched her fists.
This goddamned fool!

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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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