Honey, Why Can’t We Get a Divorce?

"What are you talking about?"

I spoke in a rather sharp voice.

I hated drinking guys! 

It reminds me of the past when my father was alive.

My father always drank alcohol. It was as if alcohol was flowing out of his pores.

Luckily he didn't hit me, but that was the only good thing.

Whenever my father drank, he used abusive language to me. A girl born after eating her mother, a mean one, a strong one—.

I think 90% of the reasons I was sick was because of my father.

That's why I hate men who drink alcohol. 

But, Sylvester is drinking alcohol before coming here! 

I narrowed my eyes.

"If you're drunk, you have to sleep. Why did you come here and become a mess?"

"Drunk—?"

Sylvester looked at me blankly.

"I didn't do anything—"

He looked a little discouraged.

Huh. Uhm. 

He's not the drunk man I thought he was.

I calmed down a little and looked at Sylvester.

"I'm just here to talk to you—. If you don't like it, I'll go back."

Sylvester said, dropping his shoulders. 

Sylvester, who is always confident and full of spirit. I've never seen him like this before. And I was more curious than disgusted.

Looking at Sylvester, who was so discouraged, I didn't think he would get mad at me or verbally abuse me.

It'll be okay, right?

I glanced at Irene.

"You stay in front of the door. You have to come in as soon as I shout."

"Ah, yes!"

Irene left the room in a hurry. And stood in front of it with the door a little open.

This should be okay, right?

I stared at Sylvester.

"What do you want to talk about?"

"Just because."

Sylvester breathed heavily, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

Then he sat down in a chair.

The slightly opened eyes looked more drowsy. It was a gaze that gave a somewhat decadent feel, so I unknowingly avoided his eyes. 

Then Sylvester slowly opened his mouth.

"You, what do you think of me?"

"—What?"

I didn't understand what he meant, so I asked back.

Sylvester spoke from time to time.

“How the hell do you think when you talk like that every day?”

What does that mean—?

Then I thought, ‘Oh, my.'

"Is it because I asked for money?"

I was shocked and opened my mouth wide.

"You don't want to pay me?!"

"It's not like that."

Sylvester ruffled his bangs and bit his lip.

"I can give you anything, like money."

Then give it to me. 

I almost said that. 

I held it in well myself.

“Sometimes they say you can only live by looking at my face.” 

"No, that's not it."

"I hate you who have changed your mind now."

Sylvester said in a little whining.

Is he whining? 

That Sylvester? 

I opened my mouth wide.

I couldn't believe this situation!

"I didn't change my mind. I was always like this."

"You mean you always liked the Crown Prince from the beginning?"

Oh, the story of how much I like Callian.

I really didn't know where and how to resolve the misunderstanding.

Even if I said no several times, he didn't believe it, so I had no choice but to remain silent for now.

Sylvester's eyes turned to me. He let out a long sigh and swept his face with his hand. 

"You, I hate you."

Seeing him say this makes him feel a little cute. I can't believe a drunk man feels this cute.

It was really me too.

"Okay. Do you have anything more to say to someone you hate?"

"I'm sleepy."

"What?"

"I said I'm sleepy."

Sylvester slowly got up. And he came to me.

Holding my hand gently, he raised my body.

"Let's sleep together."

Uh, in the meantime, I went to bed without realizing it.

Flop!

My body is laid down.

Sylvester is still lying next to me, holding my hand. He looked at me and smiled.

"I'm just going to sleep. So don't touch me."

That's what I'm talking about?!

"Good night, Ophelia."

He smiled brightly like a child and kissed my forehead gently.

Huh—?

Wait. 

He kissed me?

His breath is still on my forehead. My heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to explode. I just froze. 

But Sylvester already fell asleep.

"Whoa—"

You're just going to sleep like this?

I was so dumbfounded that I had no choice but to hold it in and look at Sylvester. 

Badump, badump. 

My heart was still beating so fast. 

His breath on my forehead did not easily leave.

It seemed like I won't sleep well today.

*****

When I woke up in the morning, Sylvester was not there.

Well, of course.

Yesterday, he was so ugly that he couldn't see me because he was embarrassed. 

At the same time, I was relieved on the one hand.

Because I was embarrassed to see Sylvester, too.

I didn't want Sylvester to remember yesterday. I wanted it to be something that only I remember.

‘Come to think of it, I really don't like men who drink.'

Yesterday's Sylvester was cute.

I even thought that it would be nice to drink often and treat me like that.

‘Ah, it's dangerous.'

I barely calmed down my heart for Sylvester, but I can't believe it's alive again!

‘No, I can't.'

I shouldn't have liked Sylvester.

Never! Never!

I held on to the rope, vowing like that.

Soon after, Irene came in.

"Madam, are you awake?"

"Hmm." I sat down in front of the wash water that Irene brought and answered. 

"Did you sleep well last night?"

Irene said in a tone that looked at me lightly.

I glared at her.

"Yeah. I slept very well. So, why don't you stop make that kind of expression on your face?"

"Ey, but!"

Irene said with a shiver.

"You don't know how happy I am because it seems that the relationship between Master and Madam has improved! Really!"

"It got worse."

I turned my head and muttered.

"Maybe."

"Look! You've gotten better!" 

"I said no!"

I'm denying it like this, but it's true that it's gotten better.

The relationship between Ophelia and Sylvester in the past was like a time bomb that really didn't know when it would explode.

From Irene's point of view, it must have felt like she was walking in a tightrope. 

But it's different now.

I got along well with Sylvester.

Irene seems to like the pick in this part.

But I—.

‘I can't.'

If we get along better here, there is no turning back.

It means that my grand plan is going to be in vain! 

So I shouldn't like him. 

For real! 

"Hurry up and get ready. I'm going out today."

"Ah, yes! I understand!"

Irene hurriedly untied my hair and brushed it.

It was then.

"Are you awake?"

A surprising voice was heard.

"Honey—?"

It was Sylvester. 

No, if something like that happened yesterday, I thought we wouldn't meet today, but for him to open the door like this!

I looked at Sylvester in surprise.

Sylvester approached me scratching his cheek.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Huh— Uh. Yeah. I slept well."

"Yeah. Me too."

After that, there was silence.

Sylvester didn't seem to know what to say, and I couldn't say anything because it was the same.

An awkward silence filled the gap between us.

"Yesterday."

Gulp. 

I swallowed my dry saliva. And waited for his next words.

"I can't remember anything."

I opened my eyes wide. 

"I didn't say something weird, right?"

"You didn't!"

I shouted. 

"Really! You didn't do anything!"

"Is that so?"

Sylvester finally swept his chest with a slightly relaxed look.

"That's a relief."

He then said with a promise.

"I won't be drinking like that in the future. I'm sorry."

No, you can do that though—.

I couldn't say that, so I agreed at first.

"Yes, I got it."

Silence came again. The awkward atmosphere between us.

Did Irene read this atmosphere, too?

She sneaks back and stands with her mouth covered.

"Ehem."

Sylvester coughed.

"I heard you're going out. Take care."

"Yes. See you in the evening."

"Yeah."

Sylvester left the room right away.

Looking at Sylvester's back leaving like that, I felt disappointed without knowing why.

No, I definitely didn't want Sylvester to remember—.

So why am I upset?

I didn't know myself well either.