It was true. When she left Barsk and arrived in Dranselle, what surprised Isabelle the most was the encounter with Eden at her own home. It was bad enough that she’d been beaten by Timogere, but she didn’t want to risk unnecessary sympathy by telling him what had happened at the Calitheon Estate.

Although she had unintentionally shown Eden her tears, she didn’t reveal the whole story. If she had played along, being submissive and sharing her worries, he would have listened and comforted her gently. But that was something she couldn’t allow herself to do; it would hurt her pride.

“Then how did he find out?”

“He must have vaguely caught on…”

Eden was always like that. He was attentive enough to infer unspoken facts, but out of respect for the other person, he pretended not to know.

After what had happened, Isabelle had deliberately avoided Eden. She hadn’t even looked forward to the day he left Blanchette Estate. She couldn’t bear to see his face. She knew Eden wouldn’t call her first, either.

“I was an oblivious fool.”

“Don’t mock yourself. That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s the truth. I’ve only recently realized what an asshole I am.”

His throat cleared. His face contorted; self-pity written all over it. Gone was the easy, confident air of a man with the world at his feet. Isabelle remained silent.

“Just one question.”

Richt lifted his head for a moment and continued.

“Did you ……really mean to die?”

Tension and fear were evident in his features. Isabelle gazed at his face for a moment.

She was curious herself.

Did I really intend to die?

Without much contemplation, the answer was ‘no.’ Although she was tormented enough to want to die, she couldn’t bring herself to end her own life, even if Richt hadn’t stopped her. It was an impulsive act committed at that time.

There was a sense of injustice in their relationship, a feeling of being unable to do anything according to her own will, always being dragged along. However, she didn’t want to easily reassure him. Richt should bear some guilt as well.

When Isabelle remained silent, Richt’s cheek dried nervously.

“Yes.”

A low voice filled the space between them, and Richt’s face crumbled. Isabelle silently stared at the man in front of her.

“…Isabelle.”

It was a choked call, like a strangled man. Staring at his sleek, pale face, Isabelle added:

“I felt that way, back then.”

“…And now?”

“As long as I don’t have to live without you, I don’t see any reason for me to die.”

“……Okay. Thank you.”

“Why would you be thankful? I’ve decided to live for myself.”

And for the child.

“What should I do?”

It sounded like a casual remark, but there was an unmistakable tremor in the voice. The eyes seeking an answer were filled with a touch of vulnerability.

Why is this person like this?

Isn’t he supposed to be someone who doesn’t depend on anyone?

Why does he keep showing a side of himself that he didn’t reveal in the past?

“Tell me. Tell me what I can do.”

Richt’s face contorted in pain. A wicked thought crossed her mind that wished he would be more distressed, more in pain.

“I don’t want anything from you.”

Isabelle said with precision.

“Can’t you give me a chance? I knew nothing about you until now. Well, it’s more accurate to say I didn’t try to.”

“…”

“I had no idea how you were being treated by my mother, no idea how lonely you were, and then I assumed there was nothing wrong with our marriage, and I had no idea why you were asking for a divorce.”

“…”

“I was unworthy as a husband, and I didn’t try to find out what you wanted or what was wrong with you.”

“…”

“I rushed towards you like a h*rny dog just at the sight of you, without knowing how to soothe your anxiety. Being with you was a moment of relief. I didn’t realize it would eventually lead to a catastrophic breakdown between us.”

“…”

“Please, tell me. Isabelle. What can I do?”

Their relationship was already twisted and broken. Richt seemed unwilling to admit it.

“Are you going to do whatever I want?”

“Yes. I’ll do anything.”

There was a gleam of sincerity in his eyes.

“Really?”

“If you ask me to get on my knees, I will.”

A chuckle escaped her.

Was kneeling the best apology this man could think of?

It wasn’t enough to resolve everything.

From the moment she first saw him, she fell for him like being pulled by gravity. Since then, she was always swayed by the emotion called love. She worried more about Richt’s feelings than her own, trying to be a good wife.

She was never her standard, never the center of attention; she became a voluntary underdog for the sake of loving him. For a man who wasn’t even worth it.

She didn’t want to do that anymore. If what Richt wanted was a chance, she wasn’t going to give it to him. It was only fair that he should suffer as much as she did.

“Then don’t do anything.”

“…….”

“Absolutely nothing.”

With a calm and cold delivery, Richt’s eyes twisted sadly.

If he did love Isabelle as he said, if he just didn’t know how to show it, he should have at least not crossed that line. Regrets are always too late.

Because she loved him so much, and she was so hurt, and she could never erase the memory of that day.

The end of their relationship had already been stamped on that day.

“I’m going to bed.”

Isabelle lay down again. She pulled the covers around her settled into a comfortable position and closed her eyes. She could feel his eyes on her, but she didn’t care. Or, more accurately, she pretended not to care. With all her might.

Not long after, the sound of weak footsteps echoed, and the door opened and closed. At the sound, Isabelle opened her eyes again. She should be feeling refreshed, but she felt stuffy.

She stared blankly at the pattern on the ceiling and sighed deeply.

It was not going to be a restful night.