[Habit of loving without response.]
Shane noticed the doubt in Adaline's eyes and said calmly, almost indifferently:
[If I really wanted to kill him, he would already be dead, Adaline.]
She didn't answer.
[I think this will suffice as a lesson.]
[He really didn't intend to kill.]
But the second he saw Adaline close her eyes, as if inviting a drunk to hit her, her mind went blank.
He didn't want to kill, but he didn't restrain himself either.
[Adaline probably calculated everything in advance: it was more profitable for her to get hit.]
[So she became the undoubted victim, and the attacker became the last scumbag.]
[This gave a reason to retreat, break off the engagement, gain time.]
Shane understood all of this.
[But still, even the very possibility that Adaline could get hurt squeezed her heart in a vice.]
[Shane?]
Adaline leaned closer, peering into his face.
[You don't still think about him, do you? Forget. Just forget about him.]
He was silent.
[And don’t even think about killing him secretly...later...]
[Ah, gotcha.] - he grinned.
[What kind of “gotcha” is this?! You yourself promised that you wouldn’t touch him!]
[I’ll listen to you...But, to be honest, jealousy eats me up. When you worry about another man, I can barely contain myself.]
[…]
[Don't worry, Adaline. You asked not to kill, I won’t kill. I'll try to control myself.]
[Hearing this from you... as if you were promising a twenty percent discount.] - she exhaled tiredly.
[I've probably gone completely crazy.]
[Even her sigh - irritated, tired, seemed cute to Shane. He was definitely crazy.]
[Is it possible to fall in love again with a woman who hates you so much that she cries?]
[No. This feeling never stopped.]
[He just didn't know it could be so stubborn.]
[Adaline still pushed him away, still hated him.]
[Although...this is no longer entirely true.]
[Since he forcibly held her close, she no longer tried to slip away, did not push him towards Genevieve, did not run away every time he appeared.]
[If this can be called progress, then yes, it was.]
---[The wedding went off without a hitch.]
[The Bertrand family cooperated willingly. Church, especially.]
[They benefited from the “miraculous” event of the Saint’s resurrection; they needed to show their strength and influence.]
Bells that rarely rang even on high holidays rang in honor of their marriage.
Adaline stood in a dazzling white dress embroidered with lace. Under the veil, as if in a fog. And yet she stubbornly did not look at Shane.
She walked forward, looking only at Genevieve.
[As if it doesn't matter who's standing next to you.]
When the moment came, Shane lifted the veil.
[Adaline. Look at me.]
She hesitated, but obeyed.
Under her golden hair, like the molten sun, her face, neatly tinted, was as cold as stone.
But as she looked at her family and Genevieve, she softened for a moment. Barely noticeable.
Shane grabbed her chin with a slight grin.
Her body shook, just a little.
He felt strangely relieved that she didn't recoil. Even now.
[She's not avoiding me.]
[And this was enough to feel stupid, absurd happiness.]
He smiled.
Adalyn's eyes widened in surprise when she saw this.
[So she still likes my face...]
[Even as a child, she could look at him for hours.]
Remembering this, Shane even felt grateful to his parents for their appearance, which could at least somehow keep her close.
[His fiancee.]
[The traitor who swore that she would never leave, that you could cry with him, that he was not alone...]
[And yet she left.]
[The hypocrite who couldn't push his hand away, even now.]
Shane looked at her, and still couldn't help but feel...tenderness.
[It became a habit.]
[The habit of suffering from unrequited love.]