Divorce Manual

Chapter 127

Fortunately, Cadensha cannot easily glide down because of the dense grass so it hovers in the sky and flies upwards.

Even with such a presence, my body feels as if it has sunk into the water.

Quite a bit of Cadensha's cries have been eaten away by the booming sound.

The only sensations I can feel at this moment are the vision that is being obscured by the deep robe, Charles's firm hand holding my shoulder, and the heartbeat on the other side.

He's safe.

I bite down on my molars as if I'd burst out crying because I could hear with a clear sense of what he's saying.

I give strength to my trembling legs, thinking that the priority should be staying alert and running alongside him.

"Come here."

After jumping out of nowhere, Charles grabs my hand and pushes me toward a hiding place.

Even though I can't see it, I feel safe here. I figure I should take off my robe.

"Why did you do that?!"

As expected, Charles, who is furious, brushes up his messy hair with a stiff expression.

After revealing his complicated feelings, Charles doesn't know whether he is angry, worried, or both.

Without saying a word, I hug Charles because I can't stop my body from trembling.

To be honest, I feel like crying.

The mere fact that he's unharmed makes me want to just hang my head and cry.

It's obviously my feelings, but I don't know how to deal with this. I gasp for breath, unable to bear it.

"......"

I just wanted to say that he's lucky and that I'm glad that he's safe.

The moment I open my mouth to say that, I think that my crying might come out first, so I purse my lips together.

I really couldn't say anything, so I just grab his neck, hold my breath and swallow my tears.

"Abella."

As if buffering is over, he lowers his hand that's hanging in the air and pats me on the back.

"I'm fine."

It's a friendly voice, unlike the last time he yelled at me.

"...Heuk..."

Using this as a signal, the final cry overflows through my gritted teeth, wetting his shoulders.

After crying for a while, I relax in his arm and release the hand that's around his neck.

"Did you cry it all out?"

He grabs my arms and moves my body slightly. Then, he tilts his head slightly as if looking into my sniffling.

I become embarrassed by his mischievous smile and nod my head, as if avoiding his gaze.

"That's a relief."

He smirks at the sight, runs his hand down my arm and grabs my wrist.

The moment I turn my head to face him,

"......"

I had to cover my mouth with my hand and close my eyes to contain the scream that is about to explode.

His face is full of small and large wounds, and the blood-soaked hem of his clothes is so horrific that I can't even ask how much he is injured.

Did I just cry in the arms of a man who's injured like this?