Chapter 41 – Not Me

“Mr. Robert, when do you think you’ll be returning to Laurent this year?”

Around the time the cards were dealt for the third round, Madame Vinoche asked the guest.

“I think I’ll be returning fairly soon.”

Pretending not to, Sasha had been listening closely to the conversation, and his brief answer made her anxious. When she suddenly lifted her head, she met teal-colored eyes. The man who had been looking at her naturally lowered his gaze to the cards in his hand.

“Sasha. Don’t hold your cards so tightly. If they get creased, they’ll be marked.”

Grandma Rollo advised Sasha. Sasha slowly relaxed her grip. There were faint crumpled marks left on the cards. And the final third game ended in Grandma Rollo’s victory.

“I think I should be returning home now. Thank you for inviting me to dinner today.”

The man, having neatly finished his coffee, rose from his chair and offered a polite farewell. The Vinoche family saw him off with visible regret. Even Mr. Vinoche, almost the only one in the family who had remained wary of Mr. Robert, had softened a little thanks to the Boissigny wine, and hurried into the kitchen to fetch a basket of eggs as a gift.

Mr. and Madame Vinoche and Grandma Elodie went all the way to the gate to see the guest off. Sasha did not go with them, but stayed behind with Grandma Rollo and helped tidy the kitchen. Grandma Elodie, returning to the house after seeing the guest out, let out a short exclamation while clearing the parlor table.

“Oh dear. Mr. Robert left his jacket behind. He must already be far away by now, what shall we do.”

At Grandma Elodie’s words, Sasha’s ears pricked up. Sure enough, his jacket was draped over the back of a chair in the parlor. While Mr. Vinoche, looking troubled, wondered whether he should rush out and return it, Sasha, who had been hovering nearby, abruptly cut in.

“I’ll take it to Hawthorn Mansion tomorrow.”

“Would you do that?”

Sasha nodded without hesitation, then picked up the plate from the parlor table and went back into the kitchen. Watching her, Mr. Vinoche tilted his head for a moment at the sudden suspicion that rose in him. But in the end he decided he was simply being too sensitive. Mr. Robert’s manner toward Sasha today had been perfectly restrained and above reproach.

Nothing would happen in the future either. Just as it always had been until now. As always, once summer passed, Mr. Robert would return to Laurent, and Sasha, left in Manolie, would soon choose a decent young man and get married. The last remaining problem, after all, was still this child’s father…….

Swallowing a sigh, Mr. Vinoche vigorously ruffled Sasha’s hair.

“I’m only doing this because it amazes me that you’ve already grown this much. Because I’m proud of how well you’ve grown up until now.”

Sasha, who had suffered this baffling attack without understanding why, rolled her eyes at the remark and then laughed once.

* * *

Sasha rode her bicycle up the hill. The wind blowing from the distant Manolie forest carried the smell of wet earth. Grandma Rollo had warned her that it looked as if it might rain in the afternoon, so she should come home before it got too late.

That had already been her intention anyway. She would return the jacket Mr. Robert had left behind, ask exactly how many days from now he would be going back to Laurent, and ask when he would return this time once he left. There were many questions she had arranged in her head the night before, tossing and turning unable to sleep. It was her first confession, after all, and there was much to prepare.

Stopping her bicycle in front of the gate of Hawthorn Mansion, Sasha took out the men’s jacket she had carried in the basket. A strange scent rose from the large jacket, neatly folded. A scent not found on her, nor in her house.

The mansion was quiet when she opened the gate with her key and went in. Mr. Robert was nowhere to be seen. Carrying the jacket and walking through every corner of the mansion in search of him, Sasha finally found him at a second-floor window. The garden visible below the glass. There he was, sleeping quietly. Sitting in a beach chair, under the sunlight.

Sasha rose onto her toes and carefully went down into the garden so as not to make a sound. Then she crouched beside the sleeping Robert and secretly watched him while holding her breath. The familiar sunlight of Manolie wrapped itself around the face of this unfamiliar man. Perhaps because the light was too bright, a crease had formed between the brows of the man who slept while frowning.

Ah, she liked this man. She truly liked him.

It was the first time in her life she had ever felt such an emotion. It was different from liking Enzo or her grandmothers. Different too from the longing to paint. When she was with this man, she felt frightened enough to want to run away somewhere, and so tense it was as though her whole body had gone numb, and yet she still wanted to be with him. She wanted to know more about Mr. Robert. She wanted to know everything about him, and she also wanted to let him know about herself.

His hand, hanging loosely down, caught Sasha’s gaze. Fingers thicker-jointed than hers, especially long and straight. Blue veins standing out on the back of his hand like marble carving. If asked to choose the most beautiful parts of this man’s body, Sasha would without hesitation name his teal eyes and his hands. As though bewitched by something, she touched her lips like a thief to the tips of his fingers, then startled at herself and quickly drew back.

It was then that she felt his gaze. The man who had certainly been asleep was now awake, quietly looking straight at her.

“I like you.”

In the silence, the words that leapt out of her on their own trembled. This was not how she had meant to confess, without any preparation at all, rushing in headlong. But the plans she had agonized over all last night truly meant nothing. Sasha simply, truly, could not bear it any longer. From the moment she had realized her feelings, it had been that way. She could not endure without telling him what was in her heart.

“I wanted to tell you that I like you. Yesterday at dinner, you said you’d be returning soon. So before that, I wanted to confess…….”

“Stop, Sasha.”

When the man, his brows faintly drawn together, coldly cut her off, Sasha sensed at once that something had gone wrong.

“I have never thought of having a relationship with you beyond what we already have.”

It felt as though her heart dropped with a thud. Her chest felt heavy and painful, like a rock had fallen onto it. Knowing she must look like a stupid goldfish, Sasha only opened and closed her lips before finally managing to ask,

“Even so, I thought that you thought of me as special, that you liked me at least a little. Was I mistaken? Was it not like that at all?”

Sasha stammered, her face burning red. It had been a confession made with no preparation at all, swept up in impulse. But even so, she had not imagined she would be rejected this coldly. He did not answer. The sound of an irritated sigh tore into her ear. As though she were the one who had crossed a line she had no permission to cross. As though she had put him in a terribly awkward situation. As though it had only been her imagination that the time they had spent together meant something special to him too, and in truth he had merely been polite.

“I understand what made you misunderstand. That day, I was mistaken for a moment. It wasn’t that I was trying to do something with you, I only lost my head briefly and judged badly.”

At that moment, shockingly, Sasha realized it. That she was not the only one who had fallen into delusion and thought she had become something special to him. Mr. Robert wore the expression of a man for whom Sasha was no different from the many other women who had put him in awkward situations like this. The instant she discovered the irritation and weariness hidden behind his discomfort, an indescribable guilt washed over Sasha. It hurt. She was ashamed and miserable that she had misunderstood, but even more than that, her chest felt hollow, as though a hole had opened in it.

“No. It’s not only because of that day, even if it hadn’t been that day, I would still have……”

“Let’s stop, Sasha. Don’t do something you’ll regret. We’re not the sort of people who should be doing this.”

As Sasha faltered on, he irritably ran a hand through his hair. The man, rising from where he had been leaning against the beach chair, stared at her blankly. He looked irritated by this situation, and perhaps disappointed too.

“I’m sorry for kissing you as I pleased. I won’t do it again.”

Unable to endure the humiliation, Sasha sprang up and ran out into the garden. She hid beneath the bushes and sobbed there for a long time, and then little by little raindrops began to fall. By the time she became aware of it, she was already drenched enough for her body to be trembling. She had sunk down weakly, all strength gone from her legs, when the man who had found her strode over.

“What are you doing here. Do you want to end up sick in bed again?”

Robert, finding Sasha soaked through by the rain, burst out angrily. Sasha stared blankly at the man she could not understand at all, then felt tears surge up. Because she wanted to insist that it was partly his fault she had come to like him. Because, terribly enough, such thoughts kept coming to her.

“I’ll take you home. Let’s go.”

Swallowing a long sigh, the man tilted the umbrella and held out his beautiful hand. Even at this moment, the man who offered to escort her home was thoroughly gentlemanly. He had not treated Sasha kindly because he liked her. He was simply that kind of person. To everyone. Even to the woman whose confession he had just rejected.

“No. I’ll go alone.”

Was it out of pride that she stubbornly insisted on the impossible? Clutching her already trembling body, Sasha shook her head.

“It’s raining, Sasha. Don’t say anything foolish.”

The man frowned at once, firm as if he had heard something absurd.

“It doesn’t matter. I might misunderstand on my own again, so don’t pay any attention to me now. How can you reject my confession just now and then act like this?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. That’s one thing and this is another. So what, you expect me to leave you to walk home alone in the rain? Am I insane?”

Mr. Robert spoke harshly, as though scolding a child throwing selfish tantrums. But Sasha did not want to be treated like a child by him. At the very least, she wanted her feelings of liking him to be respected. She did not want them brushed aside as the thoughtless sulking of an immature girl.

The silent standoff went on for a long time. Raindrops spread around her white sandals standing between his black shoes. Her beloved sky-blue skirt was already stained all over with muddy water. Probably, no matter how hard she washed it, it would never come fully clean. She might wear it a few more times because it would feel too wasteful to throw away, but in the end the stain would never go and she would have to discard it. The fact that she had behaved clumsily and ruined everything made her feel so miserable she thought she might cry.

“Then at least take the umbrella.”

At last, when Sasha remained stubborn to the end, Robert yielded a step. He handed her the umbrella he had been holding. Sasha took the black umbrella and quickly got up and ran off. The moment she stepped out through the gate of Hawthorn Mansion, the tears she had been desperately holding back burst out. It hurt that it had all been her misunderstanding, believing that he liked her too. It was painful enough to make her cry that the time she had believed was special between them had in truth been nothing to him, only simple kindness.

In the end, to Mr. Robert she had been nothing more than just one country girl among many. Though he had become special to Sasha, to him she was still no more than a passing young girl, and that sorrow made her cry, and cry, and cry again. So much that she could no longer tell whether what streamed over the tops of her feet and dampened her white sandals was rain or tears.