Chapter 42:Â Itâs An Unbearable Evening Because I Miss You
I spent a long, long day reading a book and relaxing. It was the book that the beautiful, suspicious man with red hair had picked up.
The reason for choosing this novel from countless piles of books at bookstores was simple. On the cover, a picture of the moon and stars twinkling in golden light caught my attention, and seeing the lyrical title, I thought it would be good to read a little every night before going to sleep.
However, the existence of a new book I bought after a long time was an unbearable thrill, and I sat down at my desk, unable to wait for the night to come.
ââŚâŚ?â
However, there was no way to hide shock due the flow that completely deviated from expectations that it would be lyrical. I put my finger on the page I was reading and closed the book to check the cover.
Maybe⌠Maybe there was a mistake in the binding? I thought for a moment whether it would be better to go to the bookstore right away and exchange this book.
And I shook my head, surprised by my own narrow-minded thinking.
The title of the novel does not necessarily have to be as intuitive as in the case of . It may be a very ironic expression, and titles that seem to have nothing to do with the content are quite common.
Iâm disappointed right away just because itâs not the development I wanted, isnât it a shameful attitude to be a writerâŚ.
Letâs read a little more. That was my conclusion. At least it would be right to read it to the end and then judge. Because the message that comes from the novel may appear at the end of the book.
It was only when the page turned over half way through that I realized that the binding wasnât wrong.
âHow can you..âŚ. Poor youâŚ.â
I was so immersed in the story that I was wiping away tears with my sleeve. I used to think that life is more like a novel than an actual novel. Indeed, I was reading a novel that resembled life more than actual life.
Only intermittent sniffles and turning of pages like the soft sound of butterfliesâ wings fluttering filled the silence in the room.
âLady!â
At that time, there was a knocking sound on the door and Juliaâs voice, which was twice as cheerful as that.
It was still too early to be dinner time. There was no smell of food coming from the kitchen, the bed linens had already been changed earlier in the weekâŚ..âŚ.
âAre you crying?â
Julia, who opened the door before I could answer, looked surprised. I just licked my lips with a face that was messed up with tears.
âOh, thatâsâŚ.â
âI guess you were reading a sad book.â
said Julia, who glanced at the book on the desk.
âIf you happen to burst into tears again, I hope itâs tears of joy rather than sadness..âŚ.â
âWhat are you talking about?â
When I expressed doubts about her mysterious words, Julia asked back without loosening her hands. [her tight hands mean she is nervous]
âWill the Royal Academy send letters to all applicants, miss? Even if you fail.â
âAcademy? No way..âŚ.â
âOh, thatâs right!â
Julia pulled out the envelope she had been hiding behind her back and added.
âThe academy sent you a letter.â
âAhâŚ!â
She couldnât stand it without delivering it right away, so she suddenly pushed the door in. I accepted the letter with tension.
The seal clearly engraved on the bright red wax must have belonged to the Academy. Julia was looking at the contents of it as if she was very curious, but I didnât want to open the letter now.
Iâve never heard of them replying to all contestants individually or only to the winners. But considering that they wrote my name clearlyâŚâŚ It was certain that it was the former.
Perhaps it is not just a notification of failure, but a professional review or advice for improvement. So it would be foolish to throw it away without checking it
However, even if there was golden advice in here, I didnât want to push myself into the pit of despair by facing the news of elimination with such a sad feeling. I donât have such a great hobby.
âSorry, Julia. I want to open it a little later.â
âOh, thatâs rightâŚâŚ. Now youâre focused on reading the novel.â
Julia smiled with an awkward face, even though she didnât want to rush me as I already had a sniffling nose.
âYeah, I want to read it until evening. AndâŚThereâs no way this could contain what Iâm hoping for/ youâre looking for. So donât expect anything, Julia. please.â
ââŚâŚAh.â
âIf the expectations are high, the disappointment is also great.âŚ.â
My mouth was bitter while I was talking. However, I canât blame myself for learning disappointment before expectations. I always pretend to follow realistic things, but Iâm actually a coward whoâs just crouching down for fear of getting hurt.
Julia, searched the floor with her eyes while looking for the right words with her cheeks inflated, seemed to want to say at a glance, âItâs too early to lose hope!â In the end, she managed to say:
âOkay, lady. Iâm going down.â
âYes, thank you.â
As soon as the door closed, I shifted my gaze to the opened page.
The time waiting for youâŚâŚ
But I couldnât concentrate on the novel. It was because the letter on the other side of the desk kept grabbing my concentration. Even if I pretended not to be, it was not easy to ignore it, this heavy weight on my heart was not easy to ignore.
After Julia visited, I couldnât read a single sentence properly and was frozen.
As expected, it was unreasonable. I thought I wouldnât be able to do anything until I opened the letter that was showing off itâs presence in my eyes, I had to face the cruel truth and accepted it.
ââŚOkay, letâs open it.â
If you are mentally prepared, itâs equivalent to having it done thousands or tens of thousands of times. Thereâs nothing to be afraid of now.
As I picked up the letter, I took a deep breath. Because I wouldnât be able to breathe when I read the letter inside. My lungs swelled up significantly.
ââŚHa.â
I couldnât read more. I couldnât read any more. I exhaled and looked up at the ceiling. The tip of my toe was cold.
I already know the result. It doesnât change it just because I face it. But why is my heart so numb?
âŚâŚOh. One thing that changes would be the fact that I would be officially unhappy from today.
In fact, in the meantime, I was able to stay in a shallow peace, saying, âItâs something I donât know yet,â and âI havenât heard who is the winner yet.â
But now I really have to choose. Am I going to focus entirely on finding a marriage partner as soon as possible, or will I try to find another way by writing little by little while avoiding my motherâs gazeâŚâŚ
Perhaps I could write a new novel, and when it is completed, go to a publishing house in the city and sell it.
Itâs usually Mrs. Kerney and Julia who come to my room, and the two may not tell my mother about me writing secretly. Thereâs no secret forever. However, if I achieve my dream of becoming a writer before the secret becomes no longer a secretâŚâŚ.
Of course, in order to do so, I will have to write several pages a day. Very desperately.
But thatâs the only thing I want.
ââŚâŚ.â
As I was caught up in realistic thoughts, the storm in my heart began to subside. Exhaling with a determined face, I slowly lowered my gaze.
I mustnât run away. Compared to whatâs going to happen in the future, itâs very smallâŚâŚ.
ââŚ..Kyaaa!â Gasp/shriek/ Kyaaa!
I had no choice but to scream so loudly that it was painful. It was so loud that I wondered if I had ever made this loud sound in my life.
âMelissa!â
ââŚLady!â
Soon the door swung open with the sound of running up the old stairs. Mrs. Kerney and Julia, holding a ladle and a cloth, looked down at me, who was pale and shivering.
âWhatâs wrong?â
âM⌠My, my novelâŚâŚ.â
I held out the letter in front of the two of them with trembling hands. A thin sheet of paper trembled like an aspen tree shaking.
* * *
After reading the letter over and over again, the two of them shared a hug with me and left the room noisily saying they would deliver the news to my mother, and then I grabbed the pen.
My mind seemed to be floating, but this condition did not seem to subside soon, so I decided to write a letter to the first person to come to mind when I heard the news.
* * *
The middle-aged man who handed the letter stood still with his head down.
âAh.â
Alan, who was reading the letter with a slight frown, finally threw a small bag on the table. When the man snatched it, the whispers rang in the air.
As the man, who bent deeply, left the office as if running away, his ice-cold gaze fell down again. Even though he already read it several times.
âSo sweet.â
His face, which was muttering in a low voice, was white with anger.
âI was the first to know this news. Even more than your family.â
Alan sneered coldly.
âAnd Iâm sorry to hear that itâs all thanks to him. Would that novel have been created without me, Melissa Collins?â
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As the cold eyed turned toward the bottom of the letter, he closed his eyes in annoyance.
Long fingers wrapped in black gloves nervously rang the bell, and the servant in front of the office hurriedly ran.