Alright? How could he be so calm?
Even if Primrose couldn’t hear his thoughts right now, she was certain—absolutely certain—that her husband must be blaming himself for letting her die in her past life.
If that alone already filled him with guilt, then what would happen if she told him the full truth? That in their previous life, they were never even this close? That the love they had now didn’t exist back then.
But then, in the middle of that spiral of guilt and fear, something important clicked inside her.
Even though she couldn’t hear his thoughts right now, for some reason, she was still able to guess it.
Did that mean their relationship would still be alright even if Primrose could no longer hear his thoughts?
No—hell no! She wasn’t ready to spend the rest of her life constantly guessing what was going on in her husband’s head!
Maybe this was just a coincidence. And even then, there was no guarantee that her guesses were right. What if she got it wrong and made their relationship worse?
Once again, Primrose panicked. Her mind spun so fast she didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t even feel her husband’s presence right in front of her. It was as if her thoughts had tossed her into a dark, endless void where she had no sense of direction.
"Primrose ... Primrose!" Edmund gently patted her cheeks, trying to pull her out of whatever spiral her mind had fallen into. "Let’s talk about this later, alright? You really need to rest."
As soon as her thoughts started to settle, Primrose grabbed his wrist with trembling fingers. "No, no, no! We can’t just brush this off, Edmund. We have to talk about it right now!"
Her voice cracked with desperation. She knew she wouldn’t be able to handle going through all this again if they pushed it aside. Delaying it would only make things worse and if they dragged it out, it would eat away at her until there was nothing left.
That’s why it was better to deal with everything now, while she still had the courage to speak.
"You don’t seem ready to talk about your ... past life," Edmund said gently. "If it hurts you this much, maybe we shouldn’t talk about it at all."
He turned his face away, and something in his expression shifted, maybe it was uncertainty, or a hint of sadness. But there was something else too, something Primrose couldn’t read, and that was what tore her apart.
She used to understand him so well, even without words. Even when his face gave nothing away, his thoughts would find their way into her mind.
But now? Nothing.
Primrose’s heart pounded faster and louder. She couldn’t hear anything from him. There was no flicker of emotion, no trail of thought. It felt like someone had torn away a part of her soul.
What was happening to her?
She grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him to face her. "What did you do, Edmund?"
Edmund furrowed his brow. Instead of answering, he asked, "What ... did I do?"
"I knew when you were angry, or scared, or when you blamed yourself for things you never said out loud. That’s how I understood you. That’s how I learned to love you. But now, now it’s all gone and I don’t know what you’re thinking, and it’s driving me insane!"
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