Chapter 65 A Slap
In the evening, Ann prepared a lavish spread of dishes.
The day's events hadn't dampened Elizabeth's good mood at all. At the dinner table, she talked a lot—about skiing in Switzerland when she was young, and the first time she met Arthur's father.
For the first time in a long while, her usually calm and peaceful eyes sparkled with some of her youthful spirit. She smiled and said, "Don't look at me now when my health is failing, but I've never regretted the things I did when I was young."
"Young people should do what young people are supposed to do. Don't just spend all your time stuck in that dull company business. Don't wait until you're old and have nothing interesting to remember."
Aria had been listening absentmindedly, occasionally chiming in with a word or two. But Arthur was listening very carefully, his eyes full of longing.
He glanced at Aria and suddenly put his hand on her shoulder, startling her.
"Mother's right. I've been thinking the same thing. So once I finish these few key projects I'm working on, I'll take Aria traveling everywhere."
Aria stared at him blankly. From his face, she really couldn't see any hint that he wanted a divorce.
Had he forgotten that he'd just promised Sophie something?
Aria sneered inwardly, but didn't show much on her face. She just said flatly, "The projects you're working on—you can't finish them within a month, can you?"
This directly called out Arthur's promise to Sophie.
Arthur's hand stiffened. He awkwardly withdrew it, cleared his throat, and said, "There'll always be chances in the future."
The dinner lasted a long time, ending close to nine o'clock.
Elizabeth said she was tired and wanted to rest in her room. Aria helped her back to her room. Ann cleaned up the dishes, and Arthur sat in the living room for a while before going upstairs.
In the master bedroom, Aria was organizing things.
After Elizabeth was discharged from the hospital, she'd moved back here, while Arthur had been staying in the guest room next door.
But tonight...
She looked at the double bed, feeling conflicted.
Elizabeth hadn't said it explicitly, but her meaning was clear—even if they'd had a fight, after so many days, couldn't they let it go?
That evening, Elizabeth simply didn't have Ann prepare the guest room, and Ann was happy to have less work.
Aria sighed softly. Just then, the door opened and Arthur walked in.
They looked at each other, both feeling awkward.
"I... I'm going to take a shower." Aria grabbed her pajamas and quickly walked into the bathroom.
She closed the door and leaned against it, taking a deep breath.
It wasn't the first time sharing a room with him.
Besides, in three years of marriage, they'd spent countless nights in this bed.
It's just that back then, she was full of joy while he was full of distance.
And now...
She shook her head, stopped thinking about it, turned on the shower, and started washing up.
Outside, Arthur sat on the edge of the bed, casually flipping through a magazine.
Hearing the sound of running water from the bathroom, his mind began imagining what she was doing in there.
Mist swirling, her smooth, fair, naked body getting wet, water droplets falling on her skin, glistening under the light.
Arthur couldn't help but feel distracted.
It was like two forces pulling at him inside.
On one side was his responsibility and promise to Sophie, and on the other was... he couldn't quite say what it was. He only knew that when his mother talked about traveling and adventuring across Europe when she was young, he felt very drawn to it.
He also wanted to hold someone's hand, accompany her to caves, to forest lodges, ride horses together across the prairie at sunset.
And that person was Aria.
The water in the bathroom stopped. After a moment, the door opened.
Aria came out wearing pajamas.
They were very conservative—long sleeves and long pants—but the fabric was thin, and you could vaguely see the curves of her body.
Her hair was still wet, wrapped in a towel, exposing her delicate neck.
Arthur's gaze fell on her. His Adam's apple bobbed, then he forced himself to look away.
"You take the bed. I'll sleep on the sofa," he said.
Aria glanced at the bedroom sofa.
It wasn't small, but with Arthur's height, sleeping on it all night would definitely be uncomfortable.
"The bed's big enough. One side each," she said. "It's not the first time anyway."
The words were spoken calmly, but Arthur detected a trace of self-mockery.
He didn't refuse again. "Okay."
Aria walked to the bed, pulled back the covers and lay down, her back to him. She closed her eyes. The blanket outlined a slender, delicate form.
Arthur took a deep breath and lay down too.
The bed was indeed big enough to keep them far apart.
The bedside lamp was on, the light dim. Arthur stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep.
He could hear Aria's even breathing, could smell the scent of body wash on her—very faint, but pleasant.
He didn't know what brand it was. It was a gentle floral scent—she seemed to have always used this brand, but he'd never noticed before.
He turned over, facing Aria's side. She had her back to him. The collar of her pajamas was a bit low, exposing a small section of her neck.
Arthur's gaze lingered there for a few seconds, then moved down.
Her waist was very slim. Even under the loose pajamas, you could see the curve.
Further down...
Arthur cleared his throat, feeling restless inside.
He sat up.
Hearing the movement, Aria turned around too. "What's wrong?"
"Can't sleep," Arthur said. "I'm going to get some water."
He got out of bed and left the room. The hallway was very quiet, with only the glow of night lights. He went downstairs, poured a glass of ice water, and drank it all in one gulp.
The cold water slid down his throat, but couldn't extinguish the heat inside.
He stood in the living room for a long time before going back upstairs.
When he returned to the room, Aria had fallen asleep. She was lying on her side, the blanket had slipped to her waist, and the collar of her pajamas had shifted, exposing one shoulder.
Arthur stood by the bed, staring at her intently.
The light was dim, but enough for him to see her face clearly. She looked very peaceful sleeping, her brows slightly furrowed, as if even in her dreams she couldn't find peace.
As if possessed, he leaned down and kissed her lips.
In her sleep, Aria felt something and groggily opened her eyes.
Then she saw Arthur's face up close and felt the pressure on her lips.
She was instantly awake.
"Mmm..." She started to struggle, pressing her hands against his chest, trying to push him away.
But Arthur grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the pillow. His kiss was heavy, carrying an indescribable urgency and aggression.
Aria was both anxious and angry. She bit his lip hard.
The taste of blood spread through their mouths, but Arthur didn't stop. Instead, he kissed her even harder, his tongue prying open her teeth and pushing inside.
Aria felt dizzy.
In three years of marriage, they'd been intimate many times. Each time, he led and she complied. She had once so desperately wanted his kisses and embraces, had once loved him so humbly.
But now it was different. She was completely disappointed in him and would never have any expectations again. Every intimate contact with him now brought only feelings of extreme disgust.
She didn't know where the strength came from, but she suddenly pushed him away.
Before Arthur could react, a slap landed on his face.