The Mistress Runs Away

Suddenly she wondered why he was asking these questions. Her mouth went dry, and her hands started to get sweaty. She then slowly turned her head toward the person who was still waiting for an answer.

“Why… ask all of a sudden?”

“I was just curious.”

Killian, who let go of her wrist, clasped his hands together and placed them on top of his stomach. It was a habit of his when he slept in his study chair or on the couch. Rowena answered slowly while looking at his long eyelashes.

“Ordinary… I think.”

“Ordinary?”

“Yeah, although it might seem pathetic to you.”

Killian’s words were ringing again through her brain, 

[His rage turned into a calm voice and came out of his lips.

“The money I gave you back then was not little, but you lived such a miserable life.”

He said as he started to look around the small house as if he was looking at a trash can. Her lower lip curled as she held a blade towards him.]

Rowena, who was on the verge of tears and had stopped talking in mid-sentence, again calmly concluded her line.

“Still, it was an ordinary and peaceful life to me.”

She tried to speak as calmly as possible, but she couldn’t hide the trembling in her speech. Her tear glands burst whenever she thought of the past, when she stayed behind alone with her full-term body and cried.

Rowena covered her lips with her hand to stop herself from making a sound. She didn’t want to cry in front of him, this was the last bit of pride she wanted to protect. Gathering her strength, she held her breath and wiped the hot tears streaming down her cheeks with her hands. All the while, there was a heavy silence.

He never opened his eyes. It’s one of two, it’s either that he fell asleep or he lost interest in the conversation. Relieved, Rowena walked to the door and grabbed the doorknob.

“Well then, I’ll go now.”

“How was the delivery?”

As she tried to quietly exit, another question caught her off guard.

“Difficult birth? Was it an easy delivery?”

It was like someone poured cold water over the top of her head. Rowena turned around in surprise at the shocking question. This man was asking about Damian. The obscure ominousness caused her fingertips to freeze and at the same time the blood in her body seemed to by fiercely rushing in her veins.

“Why are you curious about that all of a sudden?”

With trembling hands she brushed her hands against her face in an attempt to dry up the traces of her tears and retorted.

“It wasn’t difficult nor an easy birth. I was in labor for a few hours then gave birth. That’s all.”

It was a lie. On a cold winter night, where the windows of the old villa shook violently by the harsh wind, she finally gave birth to Damian after more than 10 hours of labor and contractions, but she did not want to give this man any details or a thread that could connect him to her child, even if that mean lying in his face.

Although he was of Killian Devonshire blood, Damian was just Damian. Her only son that she had given her life to bear and would risk her life to protect him.

The woman who had been naturally submissive and obedient has long been gone, and now the woman in front of him was a mother, who would stop at nowhere to protect her child. The fear she felt a second ago disappeared and the only emotion left was anger and a slight sense of sadness. Rowena pulled from the door and sat on the chair next to him, then spoke in a clear and low tone.

“Just in case you were curious, nothing much happened to me after that. I worked a normal job, ate well, and lived well. That’s all. I swear.”