Chapter 9

Meanwhile, in the master bedroom. Delia had already asked Edith to help move her stuff back in. She lay sprawled out on the big, soft bed, hugging his usual pillow, breathing in deeply. The scent of Curtis lingered faintly at the tip of her nose - cool and familiar. Her head was full of thoughts about him. It was only then that her whole body finally relaxed. Only a day had passed since she'd been reborn, yet it felt like forever. She knew now - all she needed to do was love him. That was enough. But the path to revenge was still long. Even so, now that she had Curtis back within reach, she wouldn't let go again. "Curtis... such a hard nut to crack," she mumbled with a wry smile. But deep down, she knew it never took much to win his heart. Even after all the hurt between them. All it took was one glance back, and he'd still be there waiting. She didn't think she had done much, yet Curtis forgave her anyway. And not just forgave-he was starting to trust her again. Delia couldn't believe a man this good was actually her husband. The thought filled her with a quiet joy. Before she realized it, fatigue began to creep in, and she gradually drifted into a light nap. She didn't know how much time had passed when a soft sound stirred her. The door opening quietly. The slight friction of wheelchair wheels drew nearer. Curtis had just wrapped up some work and rolled into the bedroom. Suddenly, he paused at the doorway, frowning. There was a faint, unfamiliar sweetness in the air. His eyes darkened as he looked toward the bed. In the dim light, he could make out the shape of someone lying there. "Who's there?" His voice was low, with a hint of irritation. The cold tone startled Delia awake. She sat up, rubbing her eyes in confusion, her voice still soft from sleep. "Honey? You're back... it's me." The moment he realized it was her, the tension in Curtis eased. "What are you doing here?" he asked, pausing before softening his voice. As he looked at her dazed face, something flickered in his expression. This wasn't like her at all. In the past, she wouldn't even agree to share a bed with him, let alone do it on her own. He flipped the light on and wheeled himself over slowly. "Thought you'd head to the guest room," he said. "You haven't slept here in a while." There was a trace of... something in his voice. Maybe sadness. Maybe frustration. "Well, don't you want me here?" Delia got out of bed, barefoot, stepping in front of him. She gave him a gentle smile and looked up at his tense profile. "We're married. We should sleep in the same bed." "That was the past. Now, I just want to be close to you." She reached out and gently tugged his sleeve, her tone soft and coaxing. Curtis looked into her expectant eyes - bright and nervous. Part of him wanted to keep his guard up, but he couldn't ignore the voice inside him getting louder. He still wanted her. More than just a physical closeness. The kind of love he thought he'd already buried. But her presence was stirring it all up again. "You might not be used to sleeping here," he said finally. Then added as an afterthought, "You've never come here on your own before." Ever since their reluctant marriage, Delia had done everything to stay away from him, even in the same house.That, of course, included the master bedroom that newlyweds were supposed to share. Curtis hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "If you really want to go back..." He figured Delia might've just had a sudden change of heart. "Don't say that. As long as you're with me, anywhere feels like home," Delia cut him off without missing a beat, her voice firm and clear. "Honey, if I insist on sleeping here, would you actually kick me out?" Curtis fell silent, his lips parted slightly, but no words came out. Truthfully, part of him had always hoped for this. But given how sarcastic Delia had been with him before, he never dared to wish she'd change her mind. She didn't seem bothered by his silence. Instead, she leaned in eagerly. "Come on, I've already napped on the bed. Don't act all shy," she teased. Then she reached out and started helping him from the wheelchair to the bed, a bit clumsy but surprisingly earnest. Curtis watched her struggling with it-awkward, but so serious-and the words to turn her away just wouldn't come. Eventually, he let her help him, settling uneasily on the other side of the bed. He purposely kept some space between them. But Delia's soft scent lingered in the air, making muscle memory tense up on instinct. Right as he got comfortable, Delia scooted closer like a little cat, curling around him without warning. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his back, snuggling in close. It was an unguarded kind of embrace, warm and natural. She squinted her eyes, murmuring, "Yup, this... this feels right." "Your hugs are my melatonin, babe." Curtis froze, his breath catching for a second. A rush of heat shot straight to his face, ears practically burning. He was so nervous, he didn't dare move a muscle. Delia could feel how stiff he was, which made her want to laugh-but also warmed her heart. He was adorably flustered. So innocent, this man. "Delia," he finally sighed, "you... this is making me really nervous." His awkwardness was written all over his face-impossible to miss. So Curtis just gave up and spoke his mind. She tightened her arms around him, rubbing her nose gently on his back. In a lazy, sweet voice right by his ear, she whispered, "Don't be so tense, hubby." "I'll hug you like this every night 'til you get used to it." "We're a couple-being close is normal." "I love you so much, you know?" Her words, light as air, brushed right over his raw nerves. The warmth and reliance in her touch were almost too real to believe. It was a far cry from the sharp, distant version of Delia he remembered. In her arms, Curtis' body gradually relaxed. He shut his eyes, listening to her steady breathing behind him. A rare sense of peace filled him from the inside out. Maybe this was just a dream after all. But if it was-he'd rather not wake up, ever. In the stillness, wrapped in darkness and warmth- For the first time, Curtis could feel her love so clearly. "Delia... what are you really after?" he muttered to himself. How was it possible that the woman who once hurt him had now come back to him, like this? He turned his head slightly, leaning in to catch the faint scent from her hair. She didn't seem like the same person-and yet, she was unmistakably her. His breath trembled a little as he hugged her back, like holding something too precious to let go. Whatever this was... even if it was fake, he just wanted it to last a bit longer.