My Precious Darling

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A year into our marriage, and my husband had never touched me.

Just as I was about to find a man to cheat with, comments started scrolling across my vision.

The side character is so clueless! Does she have any idea what kind of a beast the male lead is keeping leashed in his pants? He doesnt touch her because hes afraid she cant handle it!

Hes terrified shell hate him, so hes bottling it up until hes about to explode, and what happens? His wife runs off with some other guy. LMAO.

Hehe, if she doesnt mess up, how can the female lead come and save him? Our girl gets treated so well later on, it's non-stop action, day and night.

The comments left me frozen.

The side character was me?

And the male lead was that my husband-in-name-only, Jack?

Before I could process it, a mans voice pulled me back.

Rosalind? Did you need something from me?

The man before me wore a pair of silver-rimmed glasses, his features handsome and scholarly.

His name was Arthur.

He was one of the few men in our small town with a college education.

He was also the man I was planning to sleep with.

His gaze shifted to the eggs I was holding out. Are those for me? he asked, his eyes betraying a flicker of excitement beneath a veneer of modesty.

They were. Or, they were supposed to be.

A year of marriage, and my husband wouldnt lay a finger on me. The other young wives who got hitched around the same time were already pregnant with their second, while I hadnt even had a wedding night. I cant count the number of times the neighbors have whispered behind my back, calling me a barren hen.

Im not a woman with thick skin. And at this point, does it matter who the father is?

So Id set my sights on the bookish Arthur. I just needed a donor.

But now

Remembering the strange words that had floated past my eyes, I hesitated.

The comments appeared again:

This girls got terrible taste. Shes got a man with broad shoulders and a lean waist, a top-tier body, and shes chasing after this skinny beanpole.

All she has to do is crook her finger and the ML would go at it with her till dawn. But no, she picks the guy whos done in ten minutes. The contrast is just painful.

Holy crap.

Why didnt you guys say so earlier?

Nothing! Just passing by! I snatched the eggs back and sprinted away.

I ran all the way home.

A thin wisp of smoke curled from the chimney. Jack was standing at the stove, focused on cooking. He must have just gotten off work; he hadn't even changed. Sweat soaked his shirt, clinging to his body and outlining the powerful, tight muscles beneath. His back was a solid wall of strength, his waist lean and powerful. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing tanned, sinewy forearms.

I swallowed hard.

Jack looked like he had endless stamina. It was one of the main reasons Id agreed to marry him in the first place.

The comments flickered to life again:

Look at that build! Six-foot-three of pure, rugged male lead. An athlete's waist! This guy is a certified weapon!

She almost got to taste the good stuff. You give her the opportunity and she still fumbles it. What a beautiful idiot.

Good thing shes a fool. Our sweet female lead would never want a man another womans already used.

I gritted my teeth.

Calling me a fool was one thing, but telling me my husband had to stay celibate for some so-called female lead?

The hell with that.

Tonight, Jack was mine.

Jack hadnt said a word since Id stormed in. He just kept working silently at the stove.

A sliver of doubt crept in.

Were these comments just messing with me? His cold demeanor didnt exactly scream Im in love with you.

I pulled out the eggs, about to put them back in the kitchen. Just then, a deep, magnetic voice sounded right next to my ear.

Did you go to the chicken coop?

My heart leaped, and I spun around, relieved. I was overthinking it; he did care about me.

But his brow was furrowed, his eyes filled with disapproval. Didnt I tell you not to do that kind of work? His tone was scolding.

I was stunned.

He was yelling at me. And for what? For getting eggs from our own coop.

This is what the comments called love?

A wave of anger washed over me, and I was about to snap back with a sarcastic remark.

Just then, new comments flew by.

See? Youre jumping to conclusions again. Hes not mad at you. The coop is filthy, and he doesnt want you going in there. He quietly takes care of all the dirty, tiring chores himself.

It breaks my heart to see the ML being so good to her when I know our sweet FL is waiting. Can this side character just get written out of the story already? Im so over her.

Who cares about that? As a romance connoisseur, I just want to know if hes bigger than an egg down there.

Much bigger.

The anger vanished as I read.

But when my eyes caught the last two audacious comments, I nearly choked.

A large, warm hand landed on my back, patting it gently. Jacks expression was full of concern.

Whats wrong?

My gaze drifted downward. Even his loose trousers couldnt hide the impressive bulge at his crotch.

The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them.

Nothing. Just wondering which is bigger, you or the egg.

Jack froze.

Then his handsome face flushed a deep crimson. Youre a lady, you cant say things like that. Do you Do you want an egg? I can cook another one for you.

With that, he practically fled, his movements clumsy and uncoordinated.

The comments erupted in laughter.

Shes lying. In his mind, hes already got her screaming his name.

Based on my extensive reading experience, hes probably imagined them going at it so hard theyre both drenched.

Doesnt even take that long.

My cheeks burned.

These people were so bold! I was still an innocent young woman, I couldnt listen to this stuff.

But

My eyes drifted back to Jacks lean, powerful waist.

Could you really work up that much of a sweat doing that?

While Jack finished cooking, I finally pieced together the whole story from the stream of comments.

It turns out I was the villainous ex-wife in a historical romance novel.

I was beautiful and thought the world of myself, always dreaming of marrying some rich man and moving to the city to live a life of luxury. But one day, I accidentally fell into the river and was saved by the male lead, Jack.

My body had been seen, and the town gossip forced me to marry him.

But how could a rough country farmer compare to a well-read scholar? I was filled with resentment. I constantly berated and hit Jack, and shamelessly carried on with Arthur. When the affair was exposed, I demanded a divorce, only to be swindled out of all my money by my lover and eventually starve to death on the streets.

I clutched my chest.

That was a close call. Id almost reached the run away with another man part of the plot.

Looking back on the past year, I really had been awful to Jack.

How could I fix this?

I agonized over it until I glanced up and saw my reflection in the mirror.

Even with a frown, my face lost none of its charm. Every expression was captivating.

The comments confirmed it:

The side character may be an idiot, but damn, shes gorgeous.

Honestly, with that face and body, if she wasnt so stupid, the ML would have taken care of her for the rest of his life.

Just the sight of her back has him completely mesmerized right now.

My eyes darted to the side.

Sure enough, in the corner of the mirror, I could see Jack leaning against the doorframe, his gaze locked on my back, as if he couldn't bear to even blink.

Ive never been shy about using my looks to my advantage.

And of course, I was more than a little curious to see just how dangerous Jack really was. After all, his powerful physique was a big part of why Id married him.

A year of being a widow with a living husband had left me frustrated.

Today I was wearing a form-fitting top and a pair of dark blue trousers. A simple, common outfit, but on me, it was undeniably sexy. Big bust, tiny waist, and round hips.

I stood up.

In the mirror, Jacks eyes followed my every move. The look he cast on my back was hot, obsessive.

Then, I casually swayed my hips.

Gulp.

A loud, distinct swallow echoed through the quiet room.

A smirk played on my lips.

Hook, line, and sinker.

I turned to face him. Jack looked flustered, the tips of his ears bright red. The sound of his own gulp had startled him, and he blurted out the first thing that came to mind to cover his embarrassment.

Honey, the the foods ready.

The moment the words left his mouth, he seemed to realize his mistake. His face went pale.

A comment promptly appeared.

Seriously, this girl is so ungrateful. If the ML hadnt jumped in the river to save her, she would have drowned. And she has the nerve to blame him for ruining her dream of marrying into wealth?

Shes been a tyrant since they married. She hits him, screams at him, and wont even let him call her honey.

Our FL is so much better. She only ever thinks about the ML. Not like this spoiled, lazy brat.

Remembering my own vicious behavior, the affection in Jacks eyes faded. He lowered his head, his lips pressed into a tight line, bracing himself for the usual storm of insults and blows.

But the next moment, a soft warmth pressed against his arm.

I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around his strong bicep, my voice a playful purr.

Darling I love it when you call me that. Say it again for me?

Jack froze.

Then, as if hed been burned, he yanked his arm away.

He strode toward the dinner table, his movements stiff, his ears glowing red. Ill get your plate.

I smiled, undeterred.

So Id been a monster in the past. I could change.

A man just needs a little sweet-talking.

The comments weren't so sure:

Hold on, hold on. Why the sudden personality transplant?

Women with big chests are always the most desperate. I bet shes just after his body!

Nooo! The ML is still totally into her right now! If hes not a virgin anymore, what about our sweet FL?

My smile widened.

Congratulations, you guessed right.

And I dont just want to do it once. I want to do it every day.

He said he was getting the food, but Jack was nowhere to be found in the kitchen.

I didnt think much of it. While I waited, I went back to the room to touch up my makeup.

Bold red lips, and eyes that were both sharp and innocently alluring. Like a rose in full, breathtaking bloom.

He wouldnt stand a chance.

When I came out, Jack was back.

But he looked different. His expression seemed even colder than before.

My confusion vanished, however, when I saw the dinner table.

There were three dishes and two bowls of rice. One bowl was piled high with rice and meat, forming a small mountain. The other held a meager half-bowl of rice with only a few scattered vegetables.

Seeing me, Jack pushed the overflowing bowl in my direction.

I looked at his own pathetic portion, and a pang of guilt hit me.

After we married, Jack never touched me, but he never let me go hungry either. Yet I had been completely dissatisfied with the marriage. I demanded meat at every meal. If I didn't get it, Id slap him, hit him, and curse him for ruining my chance to marry rich.

To give me a good life, he worked from dawn till dusk, and every cent he earned was spent on me.

I thought to myself, I really was a monster.

I washed my hands.

His voice, suddenly near my ear, pulled me from my thoughts. Jacks large, well-defined hands were clenched nervously, his tone cautious.

I washed them many times. Theyre not dirty.

I paused.

My gaze fell on his sweat-drenched shirt. The work was hard. Every time he came back, he was covered in sweat. He wouldnt even rest before heading straight to the kitchen to cook for me. Especially now, with the heat. Sweat beaded on his skin, but it didn't smell bad. On his tanned skin, it just made him look more masculine.

But

In my memories, I would knock the bowl from his hands with a look of pure disgust.

Its filthy! Im not eating anything your dirty hands have touched!

My eyes instantly welled up, and tears began to stream down my face.

Jack panicked. He stood up, wanting to wipe my tears away but not daring to.

The next second, he pulled a small pouch from his pocket and offered it to me, his handsome face a mask of helplessness.

This is the money from the hunt today. Go buy yourself a nice meal at a restaurant. Its all my fault. Please, just don't cry, okay?

I pushed the money away, my voice choked with emotion.

Im not disgusted. Im heartbroken for you.

Jack stared at me, as if he couldnt believe what he was hearing.

I wiped away my tears and scooped two-thirds of the meat and rice from my bowl into his.

It breaks my heart that you work so hard every day and eat so little.

Lifting my gaze to his handsome face, I couldnt resist leaning in and planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

Im just at home all day, I dont get tired. I dont need to eat this much. You need to eat more so you can be strong and take good care of me.

His fingers tightened into a fist, his face flushing a deep red.

I hid a triumphant smile.

See? A little affection was all it took.

I leaned in, ready to kiss him again.

But the next moment, he pushed me away, sending me tumbling to the floor.

I looked up and saw that a vein was throbbing at his temple. His face was dark, terrifyingly grim.

He turned his head away, his voice heavy with despair.

To think youd lower yourself to sweet-talk me like this and all for him.

Rosalind, my heart isnt made of stone.

Did it ever occur to you that I can feel pain, too?

Huh?

I was completely lost.

What other man? What was he talking about?

The comments filled me in:

Dont worry, guys, the ML just thinks hes about to be cuckolded.

Our FL needs to show up soon! I feel so bad for the ML. He works himself to the bone to support his family, and his wife not only doesnt love him but is also cheating on him.

When he first heard the rumors in the village, he told himself people were just jealous of his beautiful wife. But now that shes suddenly being nice to him, his heart is completely shattered.

My face went pale.

Jack found out I was planning to cheat on him?

This was a total misunderstanding! I mean, I had the idea, but I didn't actually do anything!

There was no time to think. Jack had his head turned away, the veins in his neck standing out in sharp relief. He looked angrier than Id ever seen him. The comments were no help, just a chorus of glee that he was finally seeing my true colors and would divorce me to be with the female lead.

Panic set in.

Then, a sharp sting shot through my calf.

I realized Id scraped my leg when I fell.

Looking up, I saw Jacks gaze was also fixed on my injury.

Tears instantly started to fall.

I looked at him with wide, wounded eyes.

Honey, it hurts.

The chair crashed to the floor as Jack shot up, the coldness in his expression vanishing in an instant. He rushed over and knelt beside me, his voice tight with anxiety as he examined the injury. The angry red scrape stood out starkly against my fair, delicate skin.

Its all my fault. Im a monster.

He was so frantic he didnt know what to do. In his panic, he raised his hand and slapped himself hard across the face.

Rosie, Im so sorry. I shouldnt have pushed you. Please, hit me, okay?

I studied his expression carefully. His eyes were filled with nothing but regret and guilt. The earlier fury was completely gone.

My confidence returned.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face in his chest, letting out small, hiccuping sobs.

My leg hurts.

I looked up at him, then pointed to my heart.

But this hurts more.

I know Ive done things wrong in the past, but Ive seen the error of my ways. I truly want to build a life with you.

And you dont even believe me.

My eyes were red, my expression a mixture of stubborn pride and heartbreak.

The key to a mans heart? His guilt.

And just as Id predicted, my accusation left him completely flustered.

Beads of sweat formed on his handsome face as he desperately tried to explain.

Thats not what I meant. I was just I was so angry. Im sorry, Im so sorry. Ill never do it again.

But I wasnt listening.

I pushed myself out of his arms and limped towards the door.

If you dont trust me, then maybe we should just get a divorce!

The word sent the comments into a frenzy.

YES! Shes finally letting the ML go!

I support this divorce 1000%!

My face darkened, and I almost choked on my fake sobs.

Screw you guys! Cant you say something nice for once?

But in the next moment, my expression cleared.

Divorce?

Not in this lifetime. Not in the next. Jack would never divorce me.

I hadnt taken two steps before I was swept into a searingly hot embrace. Jack held me tight from behind.

No.

I dont want a divorce.

Something warm and wet fell onto my neck.

I froze. He was crying.

The comments went wild again:

Holy crap, I get it now. Shes playing him! The vicious beauty vs. the loyal, rugged hero. I ship it so hard!

This is some gourmet-level drama. This is how you do it.

What is wrong with you people? Why are you happy shes into him now? If hes not a virgin, what about our sweet FL?!

Its fine. An experienced man is better.

Ive been wanting to say this for a while: shes already lusting after the ML before hes even divorced. How is that any different from being a homewrecker?!

Reading that, I let a small smile grace my lips.

See? There were some sane people in this world.

When I didnt respond, the arms around my waist tightened. Jacks breathing was shaky.

Rosie, dont leave me.

I let out a haughty little sniff.

Well see how you behave from now on.

After dinner, once he had cleaned and bandaged my wound, Jack dove back into the kitchen to diligently wash the dishes. I finally had a moment to think.

The town gossip was mostly just people saying I was a pretty face who couldnt handle hard work and would eventually leave Jack. There were no specific rumors about me and another man.

My eyes narrowed dangerously.

So, which one of these gossips had the nerve to start this particular lie about me?

The comments provided the answer:

Our FL is so kind-hearted. She specially came to tell the ML that his wife was cheating on him. But hes so lovesick, a few sweet words from the side character and hes completely hooked again. Why did the author write it this way?! Im so mad!

Dont worry, the FL has another plan up her sleeve. The side character only has a few more days to be smug before shes packing her bags in misery.

Excuse me?

Sifting through the endless stream of FL-worship, I finally found her name.

Lily.

I quickly wracked my brain for any information about this female lead.

A moment later, a cold sneer formed on my lips.

This is what you people call a female lead?

She was Jacks neighbor. A fragile, delicate-looking girl, the picture of innocence. They were childhood friends, and a matchmaker had even tried to set them up. But Lilys family had rejected the proposal outright. Why? Because Jacks family had a bad reputation back then, and they were afraid of being associated with him.

If someone like Lily could be the female lead, then why couldnt I?

All I want is a piece of the good stuff. Whats so wrong with that?

I checked the time. It was the afternoon work shift.

I rolled up my sleeves and marched out, ready to go have a little chat with Lily. Im no pushover. If youre going to spread rumors, youd better be prepared for the consequences.

But as I walked, the villagers I passed all gave me strange looks. A few of the older women who despised me the most huddled together, whispering and giggling as they watched me. Words like slut and tramp drifted to my ears.

My face darkened.

I strode over to them and raised an eyebrow. Talking about something interesting? Let me in on it. My voice was dripping with mockery.

The women jumped. The one in the lead quickly composed herself.

Rosalind, you little hussy, dont you get too smug. Your good days are over. You think just because you have a pretty face you can bully young Jack and flirt with every man in town? Well, youve finally messed up.

I had no idea what she was talking about, but I wasnt about to lose a war of words.

Its called being a femme fatale. Youre just an ugly old hag making trouble.

Their faces turned purple with rage, but I still felt a sense of unease. The smug, gloating looks they gave me as I left suggested they were certain some disaster was about to befall me.

When I reached the fields, I spotted Lily in the crowd immediately. A pale, pretty face with no makeup. The picture of innocence. In the words of the comments, she was the ideal wife: hardworking, frugal, and devoted.

Completely the opposite of my spoiled, lazy self.

I scoffed. If you love to suffer, youll never run out of suffering to do. She could have it.

I was about to march over and give Lily a taste of the maternal discipline she clearly missed out on as a child when I noticed two well-dressed strangers standing beside her. They looked like officials from the county.

Lily was crying, her tears like a spring shower, and the people around her looked indignant.

What was going on?

Just then, Lily lifted her head, and her finger shot out, pointing directly at me.

Her beautiful face was a mask of accusation.