CWMBR 151

Chapter 151

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***

Ain, who had been pursing his lips, answered slowly.

"I appreciate your concern, but this wound... won't heal easily."

"Perhaps you should seek out a skilled physician."

"It's not that..."

Ain glanced down at his black gloves. Even covered, his bare hands seemed starkly visible.

It was a flaw he didn't want exposed, a story that wouldn't benefit anyone to share. He offered an answer that wasn't a lie, but fell short of being the truth.

"I get hurt often."

The surest way to distinguish illusion from reality was the presence or absence of pain.

Noticing his mood had strangely sunk, Bridget tilted her head. Narrowing her eyes as if gauging something, she murmured in an indifferent tone.

"They said you came back from a passionate love affair, but it seems you've decided to live life recklessly."

Ain's eyes widened at her matter-of-fact acceptance. As she turned away, seemingly understanding, he hurriedly stepped toward her, rapidly spilling out excuses.

"Passionate... No! That wasn't about me, but my attendant. Fergus fell in love with a woman there..."

Bridget, who had been turning away indifferently, lifted her gaze at Ain blocking her path. Meeting that face, the hurried stream of excuses gradually dissolved into a sloppy mess, ending in a half-hearted, rambling conclusion.

"Miss Pennington."

Instead of a flimsy excuse, the words that rose to the tip of his tongue were a sudden confession.

"There hasn't been a single day I haven't thought of you."

It was abrupt, but to Ain, it wasn't strange at all.

"I apologize for my past behavior."

Spitting out the words as if spellbound, he felt his face flush for some reason. The green eyes staring intently at him revealed no emotion whatsoever, making it even worse. Lowering his gaze, he licked his lips and forced as much strength as he could into his voice to continue.

"I... made a huge mistake with you. It feels both sudden and embarrassing, but I offer my belated apology."

"Yes, it really is sudden. I don't even know what your intentions are."

The response to his painfully uttered confession came back surprisingly easily. Ain, who had been looking down at his feet, looked up. Bridget, tilting her head slightly, stared at him with a face devoid of any trace of a smile.

"It seems you still see me as the woman who helplessly endured your verbal abuse. But I've long since moved past self-pity, so I can't indulge your emotional manipulation."

The dry utterance of the phrase 'emotional manipulation' felt strangely cruel. It wasn't exactly wrong, and Ain couldn't bring himself to refute it. As she said, he was still bound by past emotions, endlessly ruminating on them. Unlike Bridget, who had long since spread her wings and soared high, he was sinking deeper into the mire. The place he was left alone in after she departed felt more and more like a swamp where mud rose up to his throat as time passed.

"I know you overcame the past. I'm not mocking that."

Ain clenched his teeth.

"I actually think you're brave....... You've always been that kind of person."

Bridget stared intently at Ain. Her eyes were wide, her brow slightly furrowed—it looked like irritation, or maybe anger.

"Unbelievable."

With that single sentence, she walked past him coldly.

He was treated like a madman.

***

One day, her ex-husband, who had left by boat, returned after three years as a madman. How utterly absurd and incomprehensible it must have been for Bridget.

It was only natural she wouldn't give him a second glance. Ain understood even more thoroughly why Bridget kept such a distance from him. Even he had to admit he was mad. He had shattered every future he'd ever desired with his own hands; he couldn't possibly be sane.

If he had to make an excuse, he didn't even know that was the future she wanted. Ignorance couldn't be an excuse, but he couldn't express it any other way than saying he didn't know.

The problem was that he knew now. In this new continent, where lush greenery filled the land save for the small port lined with modest buildings, Ain finally realized as he saw the green everywhere, recalling Bridget's eyes. That what he had desired was precisely that. He had wanted to keep Bridget, sparkling with that youthful light, by his side.

This feeling had nothing to do with her being his first love from the past. Of course, he didn't dislike that she was the girl he met in his youth. Rather, he was relieved it was her.

But even if she hadn't been his first love, it wouldn't have mattered. If what the young Ain gained from the young Bridget was human comfort, what the adult Ain gained from the adult Bridget was rational longing. It wasn't a matter of neglecting her by harping on memories of first love. That weight couldn't even be placed on the scales to begin with. It was none other than himself who shattered her vibrant light. And he did it with absurd suspicion and narrow-minded arrogance.

Whenever Ain saw fresh green, he recalled Bridget's eyes. When he saw transparent, dazzling water glistening in the sunlight, he recalled her hair. For three years, the new continent where he stayed was filled with nothing but such sights everywhere his eyes fell, so he lived constantly surrounded by Bridget.

All he could dwell on within that were the things he had done to her. From Bridget's perspective, there was a three-year gap, but for Ain, it was something he had relived in memory every single day, so it wasn't actually new to him.

That's why these words, bursting out so abruptly, meant they were utterly natural to him.

"I'm sorry for acting like such a piece of trash after we spent the night together. Even if you don't remember, I shouldn't have behaved that way."

Bridget, who had been standing with her arms crossed, suddenly scowled.

"……Did you really understand what you just said?"

"I understood. You said I annoyed you."

He'd been careful to stop the bleeding without letting the smell of blood linger, but still, there might have been some oversight somewhere. Or maybe something else had gone wrong. Or perhaps it was just... literally that he was an eyesore.

Anyway, did the reason even matter? The reason Bridget, who had ignored him for days, suddenly spoke to him again was because he annoyed her, whatever the reason.

And Ain was in a position where he rarely got a chance to speak unless she initiated it. Therefore, if he wanted to tell her anything, now was his only chance.

"Yes, you did hear me. Lord Wise."

Her cold, clear voice enunciated the words ‘Lord Wise' distinctly.

Lord Wise? Come to think of it, this seemed to be the first time Bridget had ever addressed him that way. In the past, he'd used an alias, and after that, he'd become her husband and been called by his name. Ain found himself admiring, almost without thinking, the fact that 'Lord Wise'—a name so often spoken by others it held little feeling for him—had now flowed from Bridget's lips.

Was it really so moving that she had referred to him? Ain realized once more that he had become such a madman that even if Bridget avoided him, he would have no grounds to complain.

"Of course I heard. However..."

He didn't need to ask who the people seeking Bridget were; he could roughly guess. Some he already knew by face, others he didn't recognize but could surmise. And just from the caliber of those visitors, Ain anticipated she must be involved in various social gatherings and activities within Glynford.

Even without that, she was already an eyesore. There was no need to steal her precious time and earn more hatred. So, Ain had to seize every opportunity to apologize whenever he could.

"The wedding shouldn't have been like that either. It was a complete mess from start to finish."

"……………Ha."

Bridget let out a hollow laugh at this sudden, unexpected apology.

"I should have hired Magnus directly to accompany you as your personal physician... I'm sorry about that too. No, actually, starting with choosing the Breford mansion in the first place."

"What are you trying to do?"

Irritation finally crept into her otherwise cold tone. Ain abruptly turned his gaze. They were standing in the lobby; since the audience had already left and Bridget had approached him, there was no one else around. This allowed him to clearly see the large oak wall clock hanging in the center of the lobby.

"Ah, I'm sorry. I've taken up too much of your time. If you give me another chance later, I'll continue apologizing for the rest."

"Continue?"

"Because there's so much to apologize for."

If she gave him the time, he was confident he could dissect every single thing he'd done.

"So you're going to spout this ridiculous nonsense every time I see you?"

"I won't take much of your time. Of course, you won't give me much time either."

"Yes, you know me well."

"So whenever I get a chance………………." 

"You'll keep coming to the Grand Theater?"

So the phrase "it bothers me" implied she didn't want him to come to the Grand Theater at all. But Ain wanted to pretend he hadn't understood that part. The Grand Theater was the most natural place for him to chance upon Bridget. Her favorite restaurants or walking paths could be discovered with a little investigation, but going that far would only make Bridget find him creepy and horrifying, causing her to flee.

……ah, does she already think he's horrifying?

The sudden thought made his heart plummet. He hadn't deliberately spoken to Bridget, and he'd consciously avoided looking at her upstairs...

"If you could tell me what the complaint was about, I'll make improvements to prevent such unpleasant complaints from happening again."

The words "I won't come again" wouldn't come out, so instead, Ain offered another alternative in the most polite and calm tone he could manage.

Truthfully, that was all he could say.

Bridget stared at Ain, her expression deeply furrowed. Then she roughly swept her bangs back.

"Fine. It's better to just ignore it like we always have."

"Then is it okay if I keep coming to see the play?"

"Lately, more audience members have been buying tickets claiming they're coming to see you. Since you’re volunteering to be the spectacle, I see no need to stop them. If it boosts sales, I won't refuse."

Her sharp retort brought to mind the tour guide Bridget from their past clashes, though it felt sharper than before. Watching Bridget turn away coldly, Ain suddenly thought: It’s a relief that my existence doesn’t just provoke protests from the audience, but actually helps the theater’s sales in its own way.

What a stupidly pathetic sense of relief, really.