Hendrick’s words from the past surfaced in her mind, and a bitter smile touched her lips.

Perhaps, for a time, she had truly believed it, that she had reached a place where she could stand on equal footing with Robert.

But the moment she saw her book at the Lorenzo Salon, Henrietta realized it with painful clarity—just how foolish she had been.

Without Hendrick, the very idea of standing equal with Robert was something she could never have even dreamed of.

And yet she had let her heart grow first, without ever thinking of how to repay what she owed.

A hollow sigh slipped from her lips.

Was there anyone more shameless than her?

Now that she thought about it, the idea of being “equal” only because someone else allowed it had never truly made sense in the first place.

It felt as though she was once again facing something she could not bear.

Just like that night when she had walked toward the iron gates of the Osborne estate, fear began to creep in once more.

She shook her head faintly.

“Henrietta.”

Mark’s voice broke through her spiraling thoughts.

“Can I ask what happened?”

What happened?

She needed to answer but instead, a quiet laugh escaped her first.

She knew exactly what he was asking about.

Her marriage.

But where should she even begin?

To tell the story, she would have to start from the moment she nearly drowned in that lake…

“If it’s difficult to talk about, you don’t have to.”

“No. No, it’s not that it’s difficult… it’s just… a long story.”

“As you know, I have plenty of time these days. I’m practically unemployed.”

In response to Mark’s usual pointless joke, Henrietta let out a soft laugh — this time with a hint of sound.

Was it because the worry that had weighed on her for the past three days had finally lifted?

Or because she was with an old friend who made her feel at ease?

She was aware that she had laughed more than usual that day, but she didn’t want to stop.

“Well… it’s a long story, but there’s not much to tell.”

It had only been a single season and yet, everything with Hendrick felt like something from a distant past.

“Really? That’s a bit disappointing…”

“Mm. It’s a story that can be ended simply… and plainly.”

And then, within that distant, blurred emotion, something unbelievable happened.

“He saved me…”

Across the lake, beyond the dazzling, shimmering surface of the water he was there.

From afar, his tall frame stood out unmistakably among others.

“And I fell in love with him.”

Hendrick stood with one hand in his pocket, his posture slightly tilted.

Without even narrowing her eyes to see more clearly, she could not deny it — it was him.

Their eyes met.

Hendrick tilted his head slightly to one side.

In that moment, which felt like a miracle, his beautiful smile blurred her vision.

***

Hendrick wasn’t sure what he was doing.

He could have called out to her as soon as he saw her on that unfamiliar street.

Alternatively, he could have gone back to the publishing house they had just left and waited inside.

Instead, he chose to follow her.

Why?

Did he suspect her of betrayal?

Hendrick let out a faint, almost amused breath.

There were no promises binding the two of them.

The idea of betrayal had never applied in the first place.

Until now, every moment with her had felt impulsive.

Yet if he had to pinpoint the reason for following her, it was probably that smile, which was so unfamiliar to him.

Had he ever seen Henrietta smile like that before?

At first, his brows drew together, and then his thoughts simply fell away.

She hadn’t changed much since he first met her.

At home, she would relax, but whenever she stepped outside, she still hid her hair carefully, just as before.

So no matter how she smiled, she shouldn’t have looked so at ease.

Hendrick continued through the maze-like streets, following the faint trace of Henrietta, who had vanished as if she were an illusion, and the man whose face felt vaguely familiar.

As he moved deeper into the dim, winding path, his thoughts slowly emptied.

When the cold rain brushed against his overheated eyelids, a hollow fatigue settled over him.

He decided it was time to end this foolish pursuit and turn back.

Suddenly, the view opened up.

The lake, bathed in soft sunlight, lay quiet and serene.

There were no carefully laid paths, only natural trails worn by people who had come to admire its beauty.

Unattended benches were scattered along the way.

As if nothing had happened, the rain had stopped.

Soft white clouds drifted across the sky, gently filtering the light.

The heavy, damp scent of rain-soaked water rose from the lake.

Hendrick lowered his gaze to his feet. The shadow cast beneath his rain-soaked feet was so short that it was almost invisible.

The midday sun broke into shimmering fragments of light as they scattered across the lake.

A moist, heavy breeze stirred behind him, sending ripples across the still water.

In the midst of this tranquil scene stood a man and a woman.

At first glance, they appeared to be a young married couple: fresh, bright and full of life.

However, viewed differently, they seemed to be long-term lovers — familiar, effortless and deeply at ease.

Hendrick watched his wife in silence.

Henrietta laughed like a child, spoke with playful ease and let small flickers of annoyance cross her face before smiling again.

She startled, scowled and then quickly softened, offering a quiet apology.

The lush greenery surrounding the lake looked like an oil painting, but the two of them moved through it like watercolors: light, fluid and soft.

In other words, they were alike.

Not in form, not in the lines of their bodies but in their colors, in the way their emotions reached towards one another.

It was as though they had grown up seeing the same world, like siblings who had shared a lifetime side by side.

Then, suddenly, Hendrick recognized the man’s face.

On the night of their wedding, while he was waiting for Henrietta to change out of her ceremonial dress, Evelyn gave him a small box containing fragments of her childhood: Poems Henrietta had written when she was twelve.

Sketches of flowers and trees that she had drawn when she was thirteen.

Of all the pictures, only two showed her face as a child.

In one, a small girl stood awkwardly in a simple white cotton dress, her long, wavy red hair falling down her back.

Despite her stiffness, there was no shadow in her expression.

Her smile was bright, unguarded and full of light.

“Little Henrietta…”

In the other picture, two children were standing side by side, looking like siblings.

The man standing before him was that same boy, now grown up, still wearing the same bright, carefree smile.

Hendrick tore his gaze away for a moment and turned towards the dense woods.

An old, abandoned sailboat caught his eye, with an oar hanging crookedly at its side.

The sunlit wood gleamed with a soft golden glow, while deep green moss covered the parts touched by water.

Even that quiet scene seemed to belong perfectly to this moment.

In short, Hendrick was captivated.

Henrietta’s smile took him by surprise.

When she frowned ever so slightly, his heart began to race.

Watching her speak so easily with that man made his fingertips tingle.

When she gave the man’s shoulder a light, playful push, he felt a sharp pang of something akin to betrayal.

In front of him, even her most natural expressions were the result of careful restraint — and even then, they were rare.

But here, they never left her face.

A hollow laugh escaped him, laced with quiet disbelief.

‘Since when did it become like this?’

At that moment, their eyes met.

It was as if time itself had stopped, and even the ripples on the lake slowed to gentle waves.

Hendrick tilted his head slightly and Henrietta slowly rose to her feet.

The emotion she displayed upon encountering her husband in such an unexpected place was not embarrassment, but something else entirely.

She looked aggrieved.

It was absurd.

‘Who exactly has the right to look like that right now?’

‘Her?’

The brightness in her eyes dimmed like the sudden shift in weather they had just witnessed.

“Now, even everyday life makes me jealous.”

“…What?”

Only then did Hendrick realize that James was still standing beside him.

“Didn’t I tell you before? You don’t need to respond to every word I mutter to myself.”

Leaving James behind on the opposite side of the lake, Hendrick began walking toward Henrietta.

The woman who had been unable to hide her sense of grievance now wore a trace of sorrow as well.

Did she truly not realize that the one who should be on the verge of tears right now was him, not her?

As he stepped forward, the fickle weather shifted once more, and a light drizzle began to fall again.

At once, the man beside Henrietta hurriedly picked up the coat she had been sitting on and held it over her head.

‘Should I just snap that wrist?’