Reborn: The Duke's Obsession
Chapter 98 - Ninety Eight

Chapter 98: Chapter Ninety Eight

The day after they had arrived on Baston Island was peaceful. Eric and Delia walked down the long, empty stretch of beach, the soft white sand cool beneath their bare feet. It was already midday, and the sun, which had been bright and warm all morning, was beginning to hide behind a gathering of dark, heavy clouds rolling in from the horizon.

Delia looked up at the sky, a thoughtful expression on her face. "The sky is getting dark, just like it did yesterday," she said. "But it never actually rained then."

"Yes, I noticed," Eric replied, his own gaze fixed on the ominous clouds.

Just as he spoke, Delia felt a single, cool drop of rain land on her bare arm. Then another. She turned to him, a small, concerned frown on her face. "Your Grace," she began.

"Eric," he corrected her gently, stopping their walk. He turned to face her, a soft, warm smile on his lips. "I am your husband now. I have decided that I always want to hear my own name coming from your lips. Like you said so boldly the other night in our room."

The memory of her pushing him down on the bed made Delia’s cheeks flush a pretty pink. She looked down at the sand. "Eric," she said, her voice a soft murmur.

"Yes, my duchess?" he replied, his voice full of a deep, satisfying warmth.

"It is still hard for you to enjoy the rain, isn’t it?" she asked, her gaze full of a new, empathetic understanding.

Eric’s smile faded as he felt the first few drops of rain on his own skin. He didn’t have to answer. The sudden tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw tightened, said it all.

Delia’s expression was full of a soft, surprising sympathy. "I can show you a good method," she offered. "I used to hate the rain, too, when I was little. The Baroness... she used to lock me outside in the rain whenever I complained to my father about her, and he would scold her. So, she would punish me that way. I was always so cold and scared." She paused, then looked at him with her clear, honest blue eyes. "Do you want to know how I learned not to be afraid of it anymore?"

Eric looked at her, at the genuine offer of help in her eyes, and nodded, placing his trust in her completely.

"Just feel the rain," she said simply.

She bent down, picked up her simple leather shoes, and held them in one hand. The other people who had been strolling along the beach had already gone inside, taking shelter from the rain that had now started to pour in earnest. But Delia didn’t seem to notice. She walked further towards the water’s edge, then turned and began to walk backwards slowly, a wide, joyful, and completely carefree smile on her face as she let the rain wash over her.

"Wait," Eric said, his voice tight with a rising panic. The smell of the wet sand, the sound of the rain hitting the water, the scent of the stables from the small nearby port town—it was all coming back to him, the terrible sensory memories of that day. He took an involuntary step back, away from the rain, away from the past.

He heard Delia’s cheerful voice calling his name, cutting through the rising storm in his mind. "Eric!"

He looked ahead and saw her, a beautiful, magical figure in the grey downpour. She was smiling at him, her arms outstretched in a clear, simple invitation. A hug. A safe harbor at the end of a terrifying journey.

He looked down at his own high-gloss leather boots, a symbol of his wealth and status, and kicked them off without a second thought, leaving them behind in the sand. He took one hesitant step forward into the rain. Then another. With every step he took towards her, Delia took a matching step back, keeping the distance between them, encouraging him to keep moving, to come to her on his own.

Step after agonizing step, he focused on her, on her smiling face, on her outstretched arms. He was trying to control his breathing, closing and opening his eyes to dispel the familiar, dizzying feeling that threatened to overwhelm him. His hesitant, fearful steps slowly turned into a more confident walk. He was walking under the pouring rain, without his mind going blank, without the crushing weight of the past pulling him under. A slow, incredulous smile began to form on his own face. So was Delia’s.

He stopped when she finally stopped, just a few feet away from her. The rain was plastering their hair to their faces and soaking their clothes, but neither of them seemed to care.

"You see?" she said, her voice full of a proud, happy triumph. "You are doing it."

She then stretched out her arms to the sky, tilting her head back and closing her eyes, a look of pure, unadulterated bliss on her face as she let the cool rain pour down on her. It was in this moment, seeing her so free, so beautiful, so full of life, that Eric did something that surprised them both.

He took her hand and brought her fingertips to his mouth. He gently kissed them, then, maintaining eye contact with her, he took the tip of her index finger into his mouth and sucked on it softly.

The intimate, sensual gesture was so unexpected, so shockingly romantic, that it startled her out of her joyful reverie. Her eyes flew open. "What are you doing?" she asked, her voice a breathless, flusttered squeak as she pulled her hand back.

He replied, a slow, lazy, and utterly captivating smile spreading across his face. "I was doing what you told me to do," he said, his voice a low, husky murmur. "I was... feeling."

He was so happy, so relieved, so full of a new, powerful love for this incredible woman who had just led him out of his darkest prison. He moved closer to her, to finally take her in his arms, to earn his reward.

But as he moved to hug her, she started running, a playful, panicked giggle escaping her lips.

"Wait!" he called out, his own voice full of a new, lighthearted joy. "Let me feel it!"

"No!" she giggled as she ran, splashing through the shallow water at the edge of the sea.

Eric took a step first, then he walked, and then he started running. They ran for a while under the pouring rain, a chaotic, joyful, and completely undignified chase. He finally caught up with her, his arms wrapping around her waist and lifting her off her feet, her own laughter mixing with his.

He hugged her tightly, his face buried in her wet, fragrant hair. Then, he pulled back, and with a tenderness that made her heart ache, he kissed her on the forehead, a long, sweet, and lingering kiss that was washed clean by the rain.