Chapter 4 – Merry Stern (Part 9)

An attendant approached silently and filled the man’s empty glass. The dark red wine slowly filled the round glass. Evelyn glanced at that captivating color and then scooped some chocolate pudding with a small spoon as her dessert.

As she put the silver spoon to her lips, her gaze lowered. The red satin fabric of her dress came into view. It was a daring dress with a deep-cut back, but compared to the other ladies in the banquet hall, it wasn’t excessive at all. 

‘At a reception, a plain outfit can look shabby.’

The designer’s advice was indeed correct.

Evelyn recalled the day she bought this dress. She thought of the man who personally made an appointment at the finest boutique and even selected the dress himself before she arrived. She thought of how naturally he exchanged cheek kisses with the designer.

Thinking that far, she put down the spoon.

“I have something I’m curious about. May I ask a question?”

The man, who had been toying with his newly filled wine glass, looked at her.

“Of course.”

“Even if it’s a very personal question?”

“That’s what I like.”

Bryant replied with a smile. He always wore a smile when dealing with her, but today he seemed particularly in good spirits. From the moment he dressed up and came to the banquet hall. No, perhaps from when they went out to see the sunset on the deck. Or maybe even much earlier.

“Ask anything. I’ll gladly answer.”

Perhaps that’s why Evelyn became bold.

“How many lovers have you had?”

Bryant didn’t answer immediately. He looked at her with a smiling gaze before lowering his eyes as if contemplating, his expression slightly serious. He wasn’t avoiding the question; he was genuinely thinking. 

Does it take that long to count? 

Evelyn, watching him, swallowed a sigh.

“…I’ll change the question. Is there anyone among your past lovers who left a lasting impression?”

“That’s a more difficult question.”

Interrupted from his thoughts, the man looked up. Then, looking at her, he said nonchalantly,

“Right now, I can only remember you.”

Ha. Evelyn couldn’t suppress a hollow laugh.

“That’s quite the flattery.”

“But it’s the truth.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t believe you.”

“Why not?”

“We’ve only known each other for a month. Mr. Clifton, you must have had deep relationships in the past, and surely there was someone you sincerely cared for. I appreciate your consideration for my feelings, but you should know that excessive sweet talk can come across as rude.”

“If it seemed rude, I apologize. But that wasn’t my intention.”

His tone was serious, without a trace of laughter. Facing him, Evelyn took a quiet deep breath. She couldn’t help but feel her emotions becoming sharp.

“And unless I misheard, you just said I must have ‘sincerely cared for someone.’ Regrettably, that sounds as if you’re implying I haven’t sincerely cared for most of my partners.”

The man’s face remained serious as he questioned her. So Evelyn had to admit her mistake. Though she unconsciously revealed her true feelings, such honesty was indeed rude. It was as if she had told him he was a frivolous man who dealt with women insincerely.

“I’m sorry if I offended you.”

“You don’t deny that wasn’t your intention.”

“…Honestly, I do think that way.”

Bryant burst into laughter. Evelyn found it unexpected. She thought he would be displeased, but his expression completely softened.

“I’m not offended, so there’s no need to apologize. It’s just a difference in interpretation of sincerity.”

A difference in interpretation. An interpretation of sincerity.

“What is your interpretation of sincerity, Mr. Clifton?”

“Purity. I believe only a relationship where one is purely fascinated by the other, excluding any vested interests, is sincere. To use our case as an example, I’m currently risking the possibility of losing the rights to your next work because the most popular author in my company might get tired of me. I’m sincerely fascinated by you. That’s what sincerity means to me.”

The man who answered without hesitation observed her face and said,

“You don’t agree.”

“I’m not sure.”

“Tell me what you think sincerity is. I’d like to hear it.”

“I think it fundamentally comes from knowing each other well enough.”

“What is the standard for knowing each other well enough?”

“That standard would inevitably be subjective. If I had to define it, it would be when you can be sure of what kind of person the other is.”

“I’m sure you’re a very intellectual, charming, and independent lady. I also know for sure that you’re a brave woman and a competent author. By my standards, that’s more than enough, but it seems it doesn’t meet yours.”

“I think.” 

Evelyn said, keeping her gaze on the dessert plate.

“Sincerity must withstand the test of time.”

The man said nothing. She continued to wait for his words, her eyes lowered. Half-eaten chocolate pudding on the white plate. Its smooth surface and moist sheen. The shadow of the flickering candle flame wavered slightly.

Evelyn, who had been looking at it, slowly raised her eyes. She met the gaze of the man staring at her. A steady gaze. Eyes filled with utmost seriousness, seemingly brimming with ‘sincerity.’

“So you think I’m not sincere.”

“…”

“Because we’ve only known each other for a month.”

The man who repeated her words smiled. Then he asked another question.

“How much correlation do you think there is between a man and a woman knowing each other and passionately loving each other?”

“Well, that’s a difficult question for someone with little experience in that area.”

“Even with just one experience, you can answer this question. Unless you were engaged to a man you didn’t love.”

The straightforward words stung her cheeks. The man’s steady gaze did the same. Evelyn tried not to flinch as she averted her eyes slightly downward. The man she was engaged to. How well did she know him?

She thought she knew him well, but looking back now, she wasn’t sure. A man she had known for over a year. But perhaps she truly didn’t know what kind of person he was.

“As someone who is not much older than you but has lived a few more years,”

Bryant softly spoke after giving her ample time. Evelyn looked up to respond to his words laced with a smile.

“And from the perspective of someone who has clearly had a few more experiences than you, at least as far as I know, time was never an issue.”

She focused on his words while maintaining eye contact. At such times, he was a completely different person from the one she saw in bed. The lips that whispered intimate words were logical, and his calm and courteous demeanor was impeccably composed. He laid out his thoughts step by step with precise words. He was never hurried or excited.

“The time required for the emotion of love to develop and the duration it lasts are entirely arbitrary depending on the person, and my conclusion is that no definite law can be found. Also, the emotions shared with each partner are purely individual and cannot be compared. I am thinking only of you now, so it’s difficult to answer fairly to the question of memorable partners.”

Evelyn quietly listened to him. Even as he spoke words like love, emotion, and sincerity, he seemed to feel no emotion. It was as if a deeply cynical philosopher were discussing the world with sharp indifference.

“You still don’t seem to believe me, so to be more honest, for that reason, I don’t know how long our relationship will last.”

“…”

“And to be sincere, I hope that period is very long.”

“…”

“If you can’t believe this either, there’s no other way. I don’t have the ability to force someone to believe.”

Evelyn continued to listen and thought. This man wasn’t lying. He wasn’t fabricating plausible logic to deceive her. He was sincere, as he himself emphasized. But something critical was missing from that sincerity.

“I think I understand now.”

“What do you mean?”

“The reason you never married.”

The meticulousness of logic is proportional to the density of reason. Perfect logic proves the absence of emotion. Having overly clear logic about love means, conversely, that one doesn’t understand the complex and ambiguous nature of love.

“I’m curious about what new insight you’ve gained into my bachelorhood.”

“Mr. Clifton, your interpretation of sincerity has a significant flaw. I’m sorry, but you seem to have a misconception about sincerity and love.”

“Do you think your understanding and interpretation are accurate, Miss Evelyn?”

“I believe they are closer to common sense and conventional wisdom than yours.”

“I can’t agree, but I’ll respect it. However, the notion that love inevitably ends, whether through a change of heart or doubt, and that promising a lifetime because of that finite emotion is not reasonable, is not very close to the common sense or conventional wisdom of this era.”

His memory is also impressive. His ability to recite that lengthy statement without a single mistake is even more so. Evelyn gave a hollow laugh of admiration to the man who repeated her words verbatim.

“That was a sharp observation. But I must point out that there’s a clear difference between someone who has failed and someone who hasn’t even tried.”

“Very well. What advice would someone who has experienced failure give to someone who hasn’t even tried?”

“From what I see, it seems you haven’t met someone with whom you want a long-lasting relationship. Once you find such a person, your views might change,”

Evelyn hesitated for a moment.

“…You might even decide to propose first, Mr. Clifton.”