CWMBR 89

Chapter 89

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Bridget narrowed her eyes. She couldn't understand why Ain was making this request of her.

As if sensing her thoughts, Ain added an explanation.

"I bought it because I was curious about that beautiful garden you mentioned seeing."

Hearing his explanation made it even less understandable. It even felt unpleasant, like she was being mocked.

He didn't like the mansion or the grounds; he bought it simply because he was curious about the garden she had described? It sounded like he was saying he bought it to mock the very place she had said was precious.

Bridget pressed her lips tightly together in a straight line and slowly surveyed the garden.

Mrs. Olden's mansion.

It was none other than her who had urged Ain to buy this mansion. Back then, she had thought anyone would be welcome to buy it and restore it to its former glory, and if possible, she hoped that person would be Ain.

Now that it had come to pass, Bridget found herself sighing instead. There were many reasons, but simply because Ain had bought the mansion, she felt as if a precious thread of her own memories had been snatched away. She would never be able to come to this mansion again.

Forcing down her bitter feelings, Bridget spoke in a flat voice.

"Isn't the garden style from ten years ago a bit too old-fashioned?"

"It's quaint."

Was that meant to mock her?

Of course, he might have been sincere, but unfortunately, Bridget couldn't take his words kindly at all. She had witnessed him grumbling about everything at Glynford, calling it old-fashioned. Even when they visited this mansion, he had bluntly stated that quaint things were far from his taste.

Now he wanted to have an old-fashioned garden? How could she possibly take that as a compliment?

But Bridget didn't press him. Instead, she calmly confirmed.

"You want me to accept your request as repayment?"

"Yes."

"Very well."

Perhaps surprised by Bridget's readily accepting attitude, Ain looked at her with an expression of unexpectedness.

"You're granting it so readily."

"I said it myself that I would repay you. Let me know when you start tidying the garden. I'll pass it on to the workers."

It was a task that would rely on her memory anyway. She wouldn't even be able to tell if it was the real garden from her memories, so there was no need to take it too seriously. She could just make it look plausible enough and then wash her hands of it.

Bridget, who had been staring blankly at the garden tangled with countless vines, asked Ain.

"Is that all you need?"

Through that question, Ain seemed to finally realize that Bridget's quick acceptance stemmed from a desire to 'not have to deal with him for long.' Ain’s previously relaxed expression stiffened slightly.

"I said I had something to tell you."

"Something other than this?"

Bridget had only recently realized Ain was someone with so much to say to her. Yet, whenever she'd actually tried to have a conversation, no matter how hard she tried, he couldn't hear her voice.

Thinking it was truly strange, she stared intently at Ain.

"So your uncle and Donna Green are blood related."

Bridget wasn't particularly surprised. Ain, taken aback by her unexpectedly calm reaction, asked tentatively.

"Aren't you surprised?"

"I had my suspicions."

She had merely guessed based on the circumstances, but Ain had likely used his connections to uncover solid information, making it certain now. When she threatened Ronan, it had felt almost like gambling, but it turned out to be a legitimate threat after all. Whether that was a good thing or not, she couldn't say.

"It's highly likely that the woman photographed with Finn Emerson was Donna Green, not you. If that's the case, it makes sense that the photo wasn't fake."

That was another part she had vaguely suspected. Honestly, Bridget still didn't think she resembled Donna, but she figured if Donna was Ronan's daughter, some resemblance might exist. Since Bridget hadn't seen the photo herself, she couldn't say for sure, so she'd left that part as a personal suspicion.

But it was quite surprising that Ain had thought along similar lines.

"But even if that woman in the photo is Donna, that doesn't prove you and I spent the night together, does it?"

"The fact that such a photo exists means Donna spent that night with Finn Emerson. Unless she had two bodies………………”

"So?"

Bridget cut Ain off.

"So now that it's proven Donna spent time with Mr. Emerson, you'll accept that you rolled around with me too?"

That wasn't what she meant to say, but putting it into words made it sound like that. Ain muttered in a reluctant tone.

"The order is off."

"Right. The order is off."

Bridget, who had been standing motionless in front of the garden, began walking again as if by habit. Since Ain didn't stop her, she strolled freely through Mrs. Olden's mansion as she had done before.

Taking in each scene that would soon vanish, Bridget said in her usual tone.

"What I meant was that it was strange how you were swayed this way and that by Donna's words."

"It wasn't swayed... but..."

"I remember the look in your eyes when I called you Patrick."

Those cool blue eyes that had stared at her sternly, completely forgetting that he had given her permission.

"Yet Donna called your name so easily."

Ain clamped his mouth shut.

As Bridget said, Donna had called him 'Patrick' without permission. Donna wasn't the type to observe formalities or boundaries with others. She deliberately got close, used familiar names or nicknames, instantly breaking down psychological barriers and wrapping people around her finger.

Ain had never given Donna permission to call him by name. Yet she acted as if permission wasn't even necessary.

Watching her, Ain seemed to recall his childhood. Back then too, she'd just say whatever she wanted regardless of what others said. It seemed she'd grown up exactly that way. He let the thought pass.

That it would become a point of hurt for Bridget... Even though he could have easily considered it, he didn't really care.

It was more accurate to say he "knew but didn't care" rather than "didn't know."

Seeing Ain unable to even offer an excuse, Bridget let out a hollow laugh. The name was just one anecdote. How could he possibly explain everything she felt in the small details of daily life?

"If I'd had romantic feelings for Donna Green, I would've married her in the first place."

"You should speak plainly, Ain. You're the type who wouldn't even consider marriage with anyone you dated. Isn't that why you hated me more?"

Bridget countered softly.

"Who would hear 'I'll save your life' instead of 'I want to marry you'?"

At first, she thought it was a threat. Only when he unilaterally announced the wedding date and location did she realize it was a proposal. She knew his way with words wasn't good, but even saying "let's get married" like that was too much.

To say he'd save her life.

Would he have said that if it had been Donna Green instead of her?

"If I'd known saving my life meant losing the child's, I wouldn’t have accepted."

The muttered words, like a soliloquy, scattered listlessly.

She knew how to love but not how to take responsibility, and he didn’t know how to love but how to take responsibility. That ultimately led to the worst outcome.

Deep regret clouded her green eyes. Ain, who had been quietly watching Bridget's face as it was suddenly overtaken by gloom, suddenly recalled Sanne’s words.

"If it's a claim most people don't believe, shouldn't we reconsider it?"

What mattered to him wasn't Donna Green, the leading actress of the Grand Theater, but the girl who had come to find him in his childhood. Ain perceived them differently, yet most failed to understand this.

Bridget was no exception. So, should they conclude, as Sanne suggested, that he hadn't provided sufficient explanation?

"Of course, we know Lord Wise's words are true. But isn't it true that most people perceive it differently? Then, might it be that your own conduct was not entirely without fault?"

Was his judgment wrong, thinking there was no need to force understanding?

“Donna was the girl who read to me when I was recuperating in Elver.”

This was the first time he’d ever spoken of his first love. It was a past connection, a memory untouched for the sake of his younger self. He’d never once considered displaying or sharing it with anyone else, yet Ain found himelf compelled to explain somehow in this moment.

“I was in a very poor state back then, hypersensitive in many ways. Her visits brought me great stability. I believe she contributed significantly to my recovery. So, I simply felt indebted to her.”

At least he hadn’t neglected Bridget because he prioritized Donna’s words or let her sway him. Ain wanted to make that point crystal clear.