That evening, after Adelyn left, Nigel didn't linger in the living room.
He might have pulled off the entire act, pretending it was just a minor sickness—a minor fever —but in reality, it was anything but that.
It was unbearable.
Bleeding your heart was not some simple ritual. Nor was the wound something that could be healed easily. Since Nigel had bled himself, he had to bear the pain and weakness that came with it.
He wouldn't die immediately, but it would take him considerable time to recover.
Until then, he had no choice but to endure the pain and weakness.
As Nigel returned to his room, he went straight to the bed.
The pain made it difficult for him to sleep, while the weakness in his body only made him crave sleep even more. The struggle between the two felt torturous, and after enduring it for a long time, he finally surrendered to sleep.
The night had only begun to deepen, and with it came the silence in the house.
