When My Contract with the Misanthropic Duke Ended, I Filed For Divorce, But My Husband's Obsession and Doting Became Unbearable - Chapter 6
Even after waking up, the Duke—who had once confessed his love to me—had not gone back to his old self.
“I can’t believe I ever hesitated. I want to punch my past self for not cherishing such a cute wife.”
“Ah… ah… ahh…”
Who is this person? The sweetness in his tone feels like it’s attacking my heart. While holding me close, he gently strokes my head and whispers his love. I have no idea what changed him so suddenly. I want to tell him that “cute” doesn’t suit someone with such a plain face like mine, but I’m so unused to this kind of affection that my words crumble before leaving my lips.
Honestly, the only person who ever showed me any warmth before was my older brother—and even he never hugged me this long. I can’t say I’m used to being touched like this; in fact, just staying conscious right now feels like an achievement.
“Ah, right. I’ll handle treating these bruises myself. Don’t let anyone else do it.”
“T-that’s… I couldn’t possibly let you—”
“I don’t want anyone touching you, Sharon. You were asleep this time, but even then… just the thought of anyone else seeing your cute little reactions while I treated your wounds makes me jealous. Even a doctor would be too much.”
Just as he said, it seemed the Duke himself had treated my injuries while I was unconscious. When I woke up, I was already lying in his arms, resting against his chest. I was still too confused to even thank him properly—that’s where I stand now.
But then he drops another emotional bomb, and I start to wonder if maybe I actually died and went to heaven. Because the man in front of me can’t possibly be the same cold, people-hating Duke everyone talks about. The one who says sweet words like this should only exist in my imagination!
“Um… then, I can take care of it myself—”
“…”
“Ah—wait—D-Duke…?”
Before I could finish suggesting that I treat my own wounds, he suddenly pinched my n1pple through my clothes. His fingers rolled it teasingly, and though I tried to resist, my strength was no match for his. I clamped my hand over my mouth to stop any sound from escaping.
“It seems my wife is quite sensitive. Are you sure you can handle treating yourself?”
“N-no… that’s not… I-I’m not hurt there…”
My hand lost strength, my attempt to silence myself completely failing. I was both embarrassed and flustered—part of me thrilled by his teasing, the other part burning with shame. I didn’t even know I was this sensitive. Even if it was because the one touching me was someone I loved, I couldn’t stop worrying—would he be disgusted by me for reacting this way?
“Sharon? Are you… crying? I’m sorry. You were too cute, and I lost control.”
“I-I’m… sorry…”
Before I realized it, tears were falling. The Duke, who noticed first, immediately pulled his hand away and stepped back a little.
“I didn’t mean to make you cry. After everything that’s happened between us, I was too hasty.”
“…Didn’t you think I was disgusting?”
“What are you saying! You were so adorable I could barely hold myself back! Ah—no, wait, I don’t mean to scare you, but… it’s not exactly a lie, either…”
His words came out in a rush, and somehow, that honesty made me feel relieved. It’s already enough that the Duke feels affection for me. After all, he’s still a man—there’s no guarantee he would feel the same kind of desire toward another man. Love between men is difficult. That’s why I can’t get used to his sudden tenderness… and maybe that’s what I’m truly afraid of.
Even if I go along with it now and feel happy, it might all crumble one day.
And if that happens, I’m certain the pain would be far worse than anything the servants ever did to me.
When it’s someone you love, the wounds they leave behind cut so much deeper.
“Duke, I’m a man.”
“? Yes, I know that.”
“I’m happy that you have feelings for me, but you don’t need to force yourself to… to do those things with me. During our first night, you said it yourself, right? That there’s no meaning in it, since I can’t bear children…”
I tell myself that I’ve already dreamed enough—that I shouldn’t hope for more. The Duke didn’t lie that night. If I remind him of that, maybe he won’t try to go any further.
And if we can just stay like this, without divorcing, without hurting each other—that’s more than enough for me.
“T-that’s…”
The Duke suddenly froze, looking pale, almost regretful. But that’s probably just my imagination again, making him seem gentler than he really is. So I keep talking.
“I do love you, Duke. But I never expected too much, knowing your dislike for people. As long as there’s no more violence, and you’re not troubled by the servants leaving, I think this way is fine. We don’t have to divorce.”
Yes. That’s enough. If we can stay together peacefully, if life can be this calm—that’s already happiness.
I’ve learned that over these past three years.
“At that time… I was hurting you without even realizing it.”
“That’s not true! I’d already gotten used to it.”
Yes, I’ve grown used to being hurt. So please, don’t make that face—so sad, so gentle.
Because if you do… I’ll start expecting more again.