Why are youâ. Words that couldnât come out of my mouth were scattered in the air.
Even though denying the situation didnât make it any less true, I shook my head and looked around.
Donât cry. Donât cry.
âHuuâŠâ
I covered my ears with both hands. When I shook my head while scratching my face, my tears fell to my feet. Did he hear my voice? Kyleâs eyes were now fixed on me.
âAelle.â
âSay what you want.â
âI heard that having a child is hard on a motherâs body.â
âIâll be back.â
Your kindness made me expect. Sometimes I was drunk on the vain hope that you would love me. If I hadnât expected it, I wouldnât have felt like the ground collapsed and eroded.
âAelle!â
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My vision darkened, and my body drained of strength. It felt like an endless fall into a dark and gloomy abyss. The last thing I saw was the gray sky that reminded me of Kyleâs eyes.
âHow is her condition?â Kyle urgently asked the moment the doctor moved away from Aelleâs body. But, unlike his usual calm tone, his voice trembled.
Aelle, lying still on the bed, looked incredibly pale. The only proof of life was her soft sound of breathing.
The doctor shook his head, wrinkles appearing on his forehead. âMadam miscarried and overworked her bodyâŠâ
Kyleâs eyes widened, and he turned to the doctor. His bloodshot eyes shook.
âMiscarried?â He asked, his voice trembling.
Laura stepped forward, her face painted in anguish, and bowed. âIâm sorry. I havenât been able to tell you because everything happened so fast.â
A short breath escaped Kyleâs lips. He covered his mouth and looked back at Aelle. Her appearance hasnât changed since he last saw her a month ago.
Her hands, laid neatly on the bed, were skin and bones. Her neck, which looked like it would fit in one hand, was so thin, it was as if it would break if he applied force. He couldnât tell the difference between when she was pregnant and when she wasnât.
They lost a child. Kyle understood it in theory, but the situation didnât really sink in, that life once existed.
Two images flashed in his mindâ One of Aelle was in the garden, smiling brightly with her hand on her stomach, and the other of her at the Harden mansion, collapsing in shock.
Kyle gritted his teeth and clenched his fist. His chest burned, and a strange feeling rose; what it was, he didnât know.
Just as he was looking away, Aelleâs dark hair against her pale skin caught his eye.
Kyle instinctively reached out his hand but stopped midway. Eyebrows creasing, he looked away. He couldnât stand seeing Aelle lying there like a corpse.
Kyle roughly rubbed his face and turned around.
âYour Grace,â seemingly concerned about Kyleâs condition, Laura approached and followed him, but with a single gesture, she stopped.
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Kyle eventually left the bedroom and walked aimlessly.
After a long time, Takan suddenly blocked his way. âKyle.â
Takan, who had always been immaculately dressed as a butler, looked like a mess after riding a horse. Takan clenched his teeth and wiped his face in frustration.
âKyle, at least tell me why.â
ââŠâ
âWhy were you there?â
ââŠâ
âWhat did we see?â Takanâs voice broke. When Kyle merely stared at him, he shut his mouth.
The tension was thick between them as they stared at each other.
âTakan.â
Then, Kyle let out a deep sigh and ruffled his hair in frustration. His black hair rippled like ink and poured down his forehead. His unkempt look was a rare sight.
âStand down.â
Takan closed his eyes and clenched his fist when he heard the stern voice. His hands shook, and he felt like he wanted to explode.
Takan, who stood next to Kyle on the battlefield, knew his temper well. This was a warning. He did the same before beheading the enemy who was charging at him.
âStand down,â heâd said. It was a very generous warning.
ââŠâ
Kyleâs eyes turned to Takanâs clenched fists for a moment before falling away. He then walked past him and walked down the empty hallway.
âD*mn it.â
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Takanâs eyes darkened, and he turned towards Aelleâs bedroom.
The one room he couldnât enter.
âHa,â I sighed before opening my eyes.
This place seemed familiar.
Light penetrated through the balcony window, illuminating the bed, and I watched as dust floated in the air.
I slowly lifted my palms, and the sunlight shone across them.
Did I like the sun, or did I hate it? I didnât even know anymore.
Why was I here? Why did I have to work so hard? What did I gain, and at what cost?
When my gaze wandered, it inadvertently landed on a vase with a sunflower. Its petals have fallen under the vase.
Oh, itâs withered away.
I watched the scene indifferently until the sun had set.
âAelle,â Kyle called through the door. His tone sounded as if he was asking for permission to enter, but I didnât answer.
I didnât know how much time had passed. I didnât want to know.
I felt like something had escaped from me. There was no willingness to do something, no desire to do anything, and no existence to attach my heart to.
At dawn, while everyone was asleep, I stood like an emotionless wooden doll and gazed around the room. The world looked black and white.
Tears poured down my face, but I didnât know what or who I was crying for. Laura found like that every night, held me in her arms, and cried with me.
One day, anger bubbled to the surface. I didnât know why I was furious, and one day, while I was hitting my chest with my fist, I remembered the child who died because of me.
Everyone said comforting words to me, but I didnât know and didnât want to know why they did. Was there even a reason to be sad when I never saw the childâs face anyway?
But I was curious. What kind of child would they have been if they were born? Would he have resembled me or Kyle? Where did the dead child go? No, did it exist in the first place? If life disappeared so easily, why was I alive and not dead yet?
Was there any reason for me to live? My mind would get jumbled every time I thought about my child, so I decided to stop thinking.
But then I started pondering once more. Why did I live? I live because I was born. But have I ever lived for myself?
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âThat day.â
Yes, from the moment I met him, I decided to live for myself.
I regretted it. The life I chose wasnât for me. If I hadnât married him, I wouldnât have felt such pain that I wanted to die.
Then suddenly, it became clear to me why I was crying. Ah, I was regretting my choice.
âI want to erase that day.â
The memories came rushing into my head.
It was the first time I had ever seen a man cry so pitifully.
With his back to the sun, the man knelt and placed his hand on his chest, clenching his teeth and sobbing as if he didnât care about the dignity of aristocrats.
He was more saddened by the death of the deceased than anyone else.
Distorted face, disheveled clothes, dazzling dark hair in the sunlight. As tears fell from his eyes and soaked the meadow, I realized. I saw something I shouldnât have.
Oh, Iâll be tethered to that man for the rest of my life.
That emotion I felt, I knew it would be with me for eternity.
Even if thatâs personâs heart belonged to another.
It was cruel to oneâs self to hope and live with a broken heart. Foolishly enough, I chose such a life. Thinking of him was my priority; taking care of myself was second.
I lived my life hoping that his heart would turn to me, not realizing how futile it was to beg for his love.
Now that I thought about it, it was senseless. Did I have to continue this love until I lost myself? Courage that came from delusion and ignorance was too much to bear.