My Beloved, Whom I Desire to Kill - 265

What’s wrong with me?

She had thought that being so deeply in love, this moment would make her feel wonderful. Instead, the more they kissed, the more a wave of sorrow overwhelmed her, until it grew so powerful it broke her tear ducts.

—Oh, what do I do……

She wanted to stop, but the tears streamed down uncontrollably.

This man must have fallen for her because she was mature and strong, but in this important moment, she was acting like a child. Disappointed and upset with herself, it became even harder to stop the tears.

She kept her head down, desperately wiping away the endless tears with the back of her hand, when her two hands were suddenly held captive. She looked up in surprise and met his eyes. The man wasn’t disappointed at all, not even flustered.

Edwin’s eyes were wet too. He pulled Giselle into a tight hug. The chest she was buried in rose and fell with a deep, shaky breath. A hoarse voice, thick with emotion, came from deep within his chest.

—I’m sorry for making you cry.

Edwin had once wished for something: that Giselle would remain a happy girl forever. Not a miserable woman who hid the tear stains left by men with thick makeup, only to turn around and smile at those who made her cry.

He had wanted to protect this happy child her entire life, but he was the one who had turned her into a miserable woman. He had vowed to not let anyone who made her cry get away with it, but no man had made Giselle cry more than Edwin.

He wiped her tears away again and again, but her cheeks wouldn’t dry.

How many other tears did I fail to wipe away?

He never wanted to have to wipe away Giselle’s tears that he had caused again.

—From now on, I will not hurt you by not loving you.

Giselle nodded without hesitation in his arms.

—I believe you.

Because Edwin Eccleston was a man who didn’t make promises he couldn’t keep.

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Two people’s labored breaths were a rough harmony in the dark living room, lit only by the flickering glow of the fireplace. The man and woman, pressed together as one, moved and looked at each other with a knife’s sharp edge and a honey-like stickiness, tangled without a moment’s rest.

The obscene act of a prostitute and a ruffian.

Today, she felt acutely why ladies and gentlemen so disdained and called this dance by such names.

Tango is like sex.

Because you move your body to the rhythm with one another until your breath catches in your throat, sweat trickles down your skin, and your chest feels like it will break.

It’s true for not only tango, but also waltz—no, all duet dances in the world—but she had never gotten the impression that dancing with Edwin was like sex. A dance with him was always a sweet kiss.

She felt that the sensual movements were not the only reason why only tango felt so provocative.

This dance drives each other to a climax. Until your breath stops and every part of your body is consumed and evaporates into a white haze.

It wasn’t her first time dancing the tango, so the fact that these feelings were so new must be because her partner was being so passionately aggressive today. Throughout the dance, Lorentz stared at Giselle as if he were piercing her. It felt like his eyes were watching every drop of sweat trickle between her breasts. She felt completely exposed.

The hand gripping the small of Giselle’s back only followed the sequence her teacher had taught them, moving up her spine, but his fingertips pressed in as if they were digging into her skin, making it feel vicious.

The moment she turned to show him her back, his lips clung wetly to her exposed neck, exhaled a hot breath, and then moved away. The fine hairs on her wet skin stood on end.

Following the crescendo of the music, the dance rose to a climax. The movements became breathtakingly intense and sensual.

And finally, the finale. Lorentz threw Giselle’s body back, as if to toss her away, then pulled her close and hugged her tightly.

The dance had stopped, but their chests, pressed together without a gap, rose and fell with their shared breaths and rubbed against each other. The hand that had climbed up Giselle’s spine now cupped the back of her neck as she finally began to catch her breath. She instinctively lifted her head and met his eyes, which were glistening with a murky lust.

The man, who was sensuously massaging her neck, bent down deeper toward her lips, which were exhaling in short breaths. Giselle watched him without blinking, then moved her head to meet him.

Thump.

—Uh.

The moment their foreheads collided, Lorentz covered his nose and pulled his head back.

Right, I knew this would happen.

He was the type to pester her for a kiss, so it was suspicious that he hadn’t said a single word about their kiss from a few days ago or even any annoying nonsense all day. So he was planning to seduce her to get a kiss.

I guess the tango was a mistake.

Giselle pushed him away and walked toward the window. As she opened it, cool air rushed in. She took a deep breath of the fresh air, her desire for the murky air gone. She pulled the cigarette pack and ashtray from the window ledge, and Lorentz, who had approached, also took out a cigarette and put it in his mouth.

Chik.

Of course, as he lit it, he acted as if he was about to kiss her. What was the big deal? Pitying him, she let him be. Of course, the moment the flame was lit, she turned her head away.

—Didn’t that get your heart racing?

—That’s how all dancing is.

When Giselle didn’t waver in the slightest, he pouted his lower lip and made his disappointment obvious, but he didn’t try to force a kiss.

—Did it feel good to kiss the old guy you had a crush on?

So he hadn’t given up on the idea of a kiss.

—Are you and that man masochists? Why would you ask questions whose answers would upset you?

Was he someone who got pleasure from burning jealousy? Giselle muttered loud enough for him to hear, then put the cigarette back in her mouth.

—I’m just curious if your long-held grudge is resolved. Because I love you.

—Lorentz… really……

Giselle stared blankly up at the man next to her as if he were a stranger.

—That’s not like you.

He exhaled smoke and laughed bitterly.

—Wasn’t it unlike me to put up with my woman kissing another man? Why do you think I did it? Because I love you.

The look in Giselle’s eyes as she watched him turned cold.

—It’s your fault in the first place that I had a grudge about kissing! How dare you pretend you’re doing me a favor?

—No, it was Edwin Eccleston’s fault for not loving you.

Ugh. I’d rather talk to a wall. Giselle turned her gaze back to the window and puffed on her cigarette.

—Why do you love a man who hurt you so much by not loving you, but you don’t love me, who also hurt you?

—I don’t recall ever saying I loved him.

He chuckled gleefully, but the laughter didn’t last long.

—But I’m not in a position to be happy even if you don’t love him.

What did he mean by that? Giselle stopped staring at the smoke scattering into the air and turned her eyes to him.

—I can only see you if you love the owner of this body and stay by his side.

Lorentz held the cigarette between the upward curve of his lips. The smile, which looked like a grimace, seemed especially lonely today.

—Honestly, it’s pathetic. Other people would give up and leave, wouldn’t they? I can’t do that. Even if I’m tired and in pain, I have to endure it.

Their positions had somehow switched. Giselle couldn’t take her eyes off Lorentz, who was now gazing into the distance outside the window. Her heart began to soften. This was a warning sign.

—Have you changed your strategy for getting a kiss?

—Does that mean it worked?

—If it had worked, you’d have gotten one already.

He laughed out loud again. This laugh didn’t last long either.

—Just remember that the unrequited love that made you cry is the one I have now.»

—You’re the one who made me cry.»

When he compared his situation to Edwin’s, she felt a pang of pity, but when he tried to gain sympathy by comparing it to her own situation, only resentment flared up.

—No. You might think I’m the one who caused your pain, but think about it. If I hadn’t appeared, do you think you wouldn’t have cried? You were already in love with your old man before I showed up, and he was consistently indifferent to you.

—If you hadn’t interfered, I would have quietly suffered on my own and moved on.

—Is that better? A life where you have to stand by and smile as your first love happily marries another woman?

—…….

—If I hadn’t interfered, Edwin Eccleston would have never fallen in love with you. You don’t want to admit it, but that’s the truth.

—And so I love you, Lorentz.

The man in front of her froze at her sudden confession. The only movements were the smoke curling from his fingertips and the trembling of his pupils. As the shock wore off, Lorentz’s expression became vicious, as if he hadn’t just heard the words he had desperately wanted to hear.

—Why aren’t you happy? I told you I loved you. Weren’t you saying that you love me, too, because I made your love come true?

—You’re more cruel than he is.

—I learned from you.

In the end, she had returned the false love vow Lorentz had once used to mock her.