Devoted Love, Mr. Hayes’ Darling Wife

Upstairs, on the second floor, Nico even breathes, and everything is subdued.

His hand, hanging from the side of his suit pants, clenched into a fist.

He opened his mouth to speak, but finally stifled it.

In the gloom, Nico looked puzzled at the corner of a garment outside that wall closet.

The one that longs for you is inside the closet.

Inside the closet, Micaela covers her face in disgust, she has been too careless, too panicked just now and as she slipped into the closet, the corner of her coat has been caught between the two closet doors.

Nico must have heard about it.

The room was silent and she heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching, step by step.

Her heart hung nervously in her throat, and through the narrow gap between the closet doors, backed by the dim light, Micaela saw the familiar figure and handsome face she had thought of a thousand times before.

Two years is long enough for a person to gradually develop a blurred and distorted memory of another person’s outline and figure in his or her mind.

But when Nico stood like this in front of her, it was surprisingly profound, deep to the bone.

“Micaela, is that you?”

Nico stared at the closed cabinet with scarlet eyes, the lump in his throat rolling hard.

He reached up and grabbed her hand at the doorknob of the closet door.

Micaela cowered in the closet, rigid, covering her mouth tightly to keep from uttering a sound, but at the corners of her eyes, a low, hoarse “Micaela” made ripples of water.

Tears, silent, rolled from the corners of her eyes and the backs of her hands.

She exhaled a hot breath that hit her palm and nearly burned her skin.

Just as Nico was about to open the closet door, the sound of a cell phone broke the prevailing silence.

Nico’s phone rang.

Nico pulled his hand away and looked at the caller ID, it was Esteban.

Nico’s gaze twitched, and with a vague feeling of something in his heart, he picked up his phone and immediately went to the balcony to answer the call.

Esteban said on the other end of the phone, “Nico, I have found a hallucinogen in Central Africa that is similar to what you are talking about. The power of this hallucinogen is that it can combine with psychological images in the brain to make even the unreal profoundly real, giving the user the impression of being in a situation where they cannot distinguish between the real and the fake. In Central Africa, this potion was used on slave soldiers and ferocious beasts to keep them at bay and thus make them effective. If the potion is injected in excess, it can easily cause nerve damage and brain death, making it a very dangerous potion. It is not available in the country, except for smuggling and trafficking.”

Nico’s blue and white knuckles were visible as he gripped the phone, almost crushing it.

For a long time, he didn’t say a word, and his silence was extreme.

“Nico, Nico, are you listening to me?”Content © provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

The lump in Nico’s throat rose and fell rapidly as he swallowed, and his voice was hoarse and dry. “I know, Esteban, please bring a dose, it’s important to me.”

“Okay, I’ll be back next week just in time to bring it to you.”

Two years ago, after Micaela was caught in bed with Dario, even though he was angry and devastated, Nico kept secretly drawing blood from Micaela at the time, when Micaela was still in a coma and didn’t know it.

After the outbreak, he slammed the door and sent the tube of blood for a blood test, which did have residue of an unknown agent in the blood, but perhaps it was an unknown sex drug, Nico wasn’t sure.

Although there were no results, Nico kept the results of that blood test and the ingredients of the unknown agent in the first place.

If it was the hallucinogen that Esteban said it was, then Micaela and Dario, perhaps, were just having strong hallucinations and had not physically touched each other.

At this point, he was already furious and jealous that Micaela had taken the initiative to meet Dario, so he maintained a negative attitude towards the matter, not daring to touch him, and refrained from ignoring all these details.

For fear that the outcome would still be unsatisfactory.

It was Micaela who stepped on the deepest jealousy in his heart.

In retrospect, it was just fate.

Her decade with him has been a steady stream of failures and separations.

Because it’s too much love, it’s also always, like a psychotic.

Nico’s eyes were red and he turned to look at the still closed closet, clenching his fist and raising his hand to knock, but hesitating in the air, he took a deep breath and said in a muffled voice: “Yes, you want to see me, knock on the closet and I will open the door for you. If … you don’t want to see me, don’t make a sound.”

This time, he respects her choice and does not want to be overbearing and selfish as he was two years ago, locking her in a small attic and leaving her to suffer and resent.

Inside the closet, Micaela cowered in the gloom, motionless and with her mouth covered in death.

Love him or hate him, their relationship, long ago, ended forever in that fire two years ago.

If you are a bystander, you must pass properly.

The only way you could ever see him again would be as a business rival, and, divorce.

Nico stood outside the closet and waited for a long, long time, but inside the closet not a sound could be heard.

After all, she was not willing to see him again.

Nico’s hand, pressed against the closet door, slid slowly with immense affection.

With a slightly downcast face and moist eyes, she swallowed her sour throat and said in a hoarse, disheveled voice, “I should have known better, you’ve been avoiding me for so long, how can you still want to see me? ….”

A door separating a couple of people.

Outside the door, was a hidden tearing of the heart.

Inside the door was the determined cruelty of biting her fingers to keep from screaming.

Nico narrowed his black eyes, hot and moist, and in the gloom he tugged at the corners of his lips and said, “It doesn’t matter that you don’t see me, it’s good that you’re alive, I’m happy enough that you’re alive, I couldn’t ask for more.”

Micaela bit the skin on the back of her hand, stinging, dull and tingling.

“Micaela, take care of yourself and get well …. I’m leaving.”

In that closet, he was still as calm as ever.

Nico’s clenched fist finally loosened slowly and he turned to stride down the stairs.

There was no pause in the pace, a series of fading footsteps echoing through the empty house.

Until the door slammed shut.

Open and shut.

Cut off from everything.

Hiding in the closet, Micaela, her eyes wet, exhaled sharply.

She hugged herself, sat in the closet, raised her hand, at the closet door, and knocked, then, again, and then, again, and then, again.

And so on and so forth.

Tears, as if flowing in the heart, crumbling but also suppressed, painful without crying.

She obviously hated him, but just now, almost almost, she raised her hand and knocked on the closet door.

It turns out that when you hate someone, you can’t wait to see them.

Micaela buried her face in her knees, feeling nothing but irony.

The first time I saw them, they were red in the face, but when I saw them again, their eyes were red.

That night, in the house, there was a knock on the door that rang all night.

Take a look.

Take a look.

One more.

It was like an answer, but it was stony and no one heard it.

Nico would also never know that after he left, Micaela hid in the closet and knocked on the door a thousand times, just as he had done over the years, turning around for her a thousand times.