WFMW 35

Chapter 35

That Side of You Annoys Me!

2024.04.04.

“Uh…”

My throat felt like it was caught on something. A dozen thoughts rushed through my mind in that instant.

There was only one person in this entire world who knew that I couldn’t use magic — Grisha.

Grisha’s like family. Someone I can trust, someone I can rely on.

But strangely, I suddenly wanted to be honest with Cedar too.

The time I’d spent with Cedar was nothing compared to how long I’d known Grisha, and yet—

If I tell him the truth, he’ll just pity me. He’ll try to protect me.

The Cedar Granite I knew was the furthest thing from a cold man.

But this is my problem.

Was it right to burden him with it? To make it his responsibility when even staying by his side was dangerous for me?

There were too many tangled thoughts to find a clear answer.

In the end, I lowered my head and said quietly,

“…I can’t tell you.”

At that, Cedar’s expression twisted sharply.

I’d thought he would just sigh and back off after hearing that. Instead, he stepped closer to me, and I blinked in surprise.

There wasn’t even a trace of the earthy scent I’d smelled on him last night.

Instead, the air around me filled with that familiar sharp scent that always clung to him—one that somehow calmed me every time.

But I didn’t have the luxury of being soothed. Cedar’s voice was low and cutting.

“So you’re keeping secrets from me? I saved you last night. You were shaking in fear—you couldn’t even use magic.”

My face stiffened. I answered coolly, pointing out the obvious.

“You’re also the one who put me in danger.”

“What?”

“The assassin—you think your mother sent them, right? Or am I wrong?”

“…”

I was grateful he’d saved me, sure, but if I hadn’t met him, I wouldn’t have been in danger to begin with.

Of course, it’s not as if he could’ve predicted all that. And if I hadn’t entered this contract marriage, I might have been killed by Diana already…

Still, wrong is wrong.

He had no right to demand that I tell him my secrets like that.

Cedar’s eyes trembled slightly. Then, with the look of a lost child, he dropped his gaze and muttered, his voice subdued.

“…You’re right. I should be the one apologizing. I’m really sorry.”

I hadn’t said it to make him feel guilty, but seeing him so earnestly remorseful made my heart soften anyway.

I shrugged lightly and smiled.

“It’s okay. I didn’t say that to get an apology. You did save me, after all. You have no idea how relieved I was when I heard your voice yesterday.”

That was something I would never forget for the rest of my life, even if we divorced one day.

It was the first time I’d cried so much. The first time I’d clung to someone with everything I had.

I meant it when I said softly,

“You were really cool. Thank you.”

At my honest words, Cedar’s lips thinned. Looking slightly embarrassed, he hesitated before finally speaking again.

“When you say you’re keeping a secret from me, it’s just….”

Just what?

I perked my ears, trying to listen sincerely—but in the end, Cedar didn’t finish his sentence.

Running a rough hand through his hair, he sat back down with a heavy sigh and said stiffly,

“Forget it. Pretend you didn’t hear that. I just got mad and said something stupid. I admit it wasn’t rational.”

“You sure know how to reflect fast.”

It’d be nice if he’d not only reflect but also tell me what he meant by that.

Cedar crossed his arms and pouted, looking oddly troubled.

Well, it’s understandable. His mother did send assassins to the house.

I remembered the despair I’d felt when I first realized Diana wanted me dead.

When family betrays you, the wound cuts much deeper than any stranger could.

It must be even harder for him since it’s his mother.

I wanted to comfort him somehow, but what came out of my mouth was a half-joking, half-awkward remark.

“Whatever happened, you should try to make up with your mother.”

“Make up? Are you kidding me?”

Right. Sending assassins wasn’t the kind of thing you did after a simple argument. It was a bad joke.

Why do I have such terrible social skills?

Maybe I should take it back.

As I hesitated, Cedar tilted his head and gave me a crooked grin. His tone turned teasing.

“Or are you saying you’ll give her what she wants? Maybe have my child?”

He said it with the wounded tone of a sulky child, but the man speaking wasn’t a child—he was a tall, broad-shouldered, handsome man looking at me with sad eyes.

It made the whole thing sound so weird.

Good thing it’s me sitting here. Anyone else would totally misunderstand.

I pressed my finger to the furrow forming between his brows.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean. You always say nasty things when you’re upset—and end up hurting yourself too.”

“…”

But instead of getting defensive, Cedar just looked stunned.

I’d expected him to argue, but he just stared at me, dazed, as if something had hit him.

What’s with him?

Moments like this reminded me how little I truly knew him.

Rather than push further, I returned to the main issue.

“Anyway, I married you for survival. But if that very marriage puts my life in danger, then I have to reconsider everything. That’s why I’d rather not answer your question.”

Whatever I said shouldn’t influence his decisions—and vice versa.

But maybe because of his mother, Cedar’s mood was unusually volatile today.

He frowned and asked sharply,

“So what—you don’t trust me as your contract partner?”

Why did he have to twist my words like that? I pressed my fingers against my temples, feeling a headache coming on.

“I just need some time to think. Don’t you?”

“Think about what?”

Did he really not get it? He also had every reason to reconsider this contract.

I explained patiently,

“Since your mother has decided she doesn’t like me, I’ve become a risk, not an advantage. A liability to protect, not a partner that benefits you.”

After all, it wasn’t good for either of us if assassins kept coming.

His brows knitted tighter.

“A risk? What do you mean?”

Wait—had assassins come before last night too? That couldn’t be… right?

Or does he mean he’s strong enough that it doesn’t matter if they come?

There were only two possibilities: either Cedar was so powerful that assassins were no threat to him, or—

He just wouldn’t bother saving me next time.

Even though he had saved me last night, technically, he didn’t have to.

Realizing that, I clapped my hands and said brightly,

“Oh, right! Now that I think about it, it’s not really a loss for you if I get assassinated! You could just say you’re mourning your wife and delay remarrying!”

In other words, I was the only one taking the risk here.

So there’s no reason for him to think it over. I’m the one who has to decide.

And honestly, the decision wasn’t that hard.

If I’d gotten married to avoid dying, but now that marriage might kill me instead, then of course I should get divorced.

So why does it feel so wrong…?

As I frowned and sighed, trying to figure out my own emotions, Cedar suddenly erupted.

“Nellie Periway!”

I flinched at the sound of my full name shouted like that.

He stood up, exhaling deeply as if restraining himself, then pointed a finger right at me.

“You know what? Maybe you’re right about everything—but your tone is so damn irritating!”

“What?”

Was he… picking a fight?

I thought only academy professors did that. Cedar Granite, of all people?

I guess people really do have hidden sides. Maybe I’d been too blunt—but was tone really the issue right now?

I tilted my head.

“So? What, you want to skip the thinking part and just get divorced right now?”

“Ugh!”

Cedar’s face turned red. His shoulders shook as if he might explode, then he clenched his fists and shouted,

“That’s exactly what I mean! That tone! It’s so annoying! When did I say I wanted a divorce? How much time do you even need to think?!”

“Three days?”

“Fine! Whatever!”

Even in the middle of yelling, he still answered me.

Then, stomping loudly, Cedar turned and stormed out of my room.

I just sat there, blinking, completely lost.

Why’s he so angry?

I hadn’t said anything insulting. Didn’t attack his character.

He’s more sensitive than I thought.

I mentally jotted down a new note: “Cedar Granite — sensitive.”

Just then—

“And another thing!”

“Hiccup!”

As if he’d read my mind, Cedar suddenly threw the door open again and stuck his head back in.

Startled, I hiccupped on the spot.