Chapter 97

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 97

Chapter Title: Still That Strange Guest (11)

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"Honestly, I couldn't understand it. He was such a delicate fellow, so I just brushed it off. But looking back, I think I had a moment like that too. When I first met Paula."

Ethan paused for a moment, then chuckled softly. His gaze drifted slightly, as if reminiscing about the time he first met me.

"I just thought of her as a new maid at first, but the moment I realized she was more than that, what a relief it was. Ah, Vincent isn't alone anymore. There's someone by his side now, even if just a little. Even if she might have bad thoughts, there's someone who'll fight with all her might to stop her."

His smile deepened.

"It wasn't because Paula did something special or because she's extraordinary. On the contrary, she probably doesn't realize how much comfort it brings just to have someone quietly by your side, doing nothing."

"......"

"Vincent must have felt the same way."

His eyes, fixed on me again, brimmed with affection.

"In utter darkness filled only with despair, if someone takes your hand without any ulterior motives, and you come to trust that touch, how could you ever forget that memory?"

His soft words felt like he was embracing and soothing me. A warm sensation seemed to spread through my entire body, like an illusion.

"I... I don't know."

I couldn't comprehend what Ethan was saying. Why me? What makes me so special? I only ended up in that mansion by chance, so why do you all talk as if I brought you comfort? Why speak of precious memories with such affection?

To be someone unforgettable, someone missed, someone who comforts others—you have to have that kind of worth. But I had none of it.

The moment I started toddling around, Father immediately taught me household chores. I learned to clean, clutching a broom longer than myself with both hands, stumbling as I went.

One day, I followed him alone carrying a huge pile of laundry, only to be dumped at the riverbank. Left standing there by myself, I watched the women around me over my shoulder and tried washing clothes for the first time. I rubbed them clumsily with my tiny hands, but my skills were abysmal. When Father saw the sopping wet pile, he slapped my cheek with his massive hand.

'You gotta be useful to stick around, useful!'

'Waaah!'

'Shut your trap!'

Father showed no mercy, even to his young children. I cried and cried, not understanding why I was being hit, until I finally passed out. After that, I realized that crying only provoked him more, so I stopped.

'You're useless, so you gotta do this much to live together. Got it?'

He whispered that while forcing a knife into my tiny hand. The sharp tip terrified me, and I didn't want to touch it, but he made me anyway. That day, I spent the whole time peeling a whole sack of potatoes, cutting my hands multiple times. Father turned them into watery soup and ate it all.

'Useless girl.'

He often said things like that. Scowling, clicking his tongue, sometimes unleashing merciless violence. An ugly child like me, who wouldn't fetch even pocket change if sold, was worthless to him.

And when the mother who had just given birth to the youngest ran away alone in the middle of the night a few days later, I realized it.

I'm a worthless person. A useless existence.

I felt it to my bones as I held my young siblings' hands. How could someone like me have done that for you all?

"I don't know if I'm that kind of person."

Even the parents who bore me denied me. I couldn't save my siblings from death. The one sibling left hated me, just like our parents did. No one liked me. Being loved by anyone was something I could never dare hope for. I couldn't understand Ethan calling someone like me precious.

I stared blankly at Ethan, wetting my dry lips with my tongue. He said nothing, just met my gaze with calm, settled eyes.

Soon, he patted the back of my hand gently. It was slow and faint, but incredibly warm. His long brown eyes softened with kindness.

"Paula, don't overthink it. Like I said before, I'm not trying to make things hard. I just want you two to face each other honestly, at least once. You said you hid your appearance from Vincent. If he misses Paula, wouldn't that be too pitiful?"

Even though my earlier response must have sounded odd enough, he didn't mention it. He just smiled kindly.

"I just had a funny thought—maybe it's fate that we're meeting like this again."

"......Coincidence."

"You should say, 'I think so too,' at times like this."

"......"

"Well, true. Honestly, I don't really believe in fate either. But right now, I kind of want to."

Suddenly, Ethan leaned his face closer to mine. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then hesitated. Wondering what was up, I waited curiously for his words.

"Actually, you see......"

His voice that followed moments later sounded heavy. Curious about what he was going to say, I perked up my ears and leaned in without realizing it.

Then came the knock-knock at the door. Startled, I whipped around to see Vincent leaning against the doorframe, apparently having opened it without me noticing.

Eh, when did he get here? How much did he hear? Did he hear everything? As confusion froze me and Ethan in place, Vincent calmly scanned us and tossed out a remark.

"Looks like I'm interrupting."

Only then did I check on myself and Ethan. With our hands clasped and our faces nearly touching, it was a scene ripe for misunderstanding to anyone who saw it.

I jumped up in a fluster, and Ethan raised both hands.

"Don't misunderstand. We were just chatting casually."

"No need to explain."

"If you don't, you'll misunderstand."

Don't, just stop. Despite my firm words, Vincent's reaction was lukewarm. No denial, no affirmation. He definitely misunderstood.

As I opened my mouth to make excuses, my eyes met Vincent's exactly. Was it habit? I instinctively averted my gaze. Only after turning my head fully to hide my face did I realize my mistake.

Ethan, watching us alternate, let out an ominous "Mm—" groan.

"How long have you been there?"

"Just now."

"Just now when?"

Ethan probed insistently, sharing my worry. Vincent paused briefly but answered readily.

"When you were talking about fate or whatever."

That meant he hadn't heard the earlier conversation. I secretly breathed a sigh of relief. But what he had heard wasn't exactly reassuring either.

Maybe because of our past connection, Ethan didn't act stiff with me, and I'd grown used to treating him casually too. That meant I never knew when I might slip up. Plus, he occasionally called me by my real name. I'd have to ask him later to be more careful.

"You here to see me?"

"Yeah. Got something to say."

At that, Ethan flashed a brief surprised look and glanced at me.

"Po—"

"I'll step out!"

I cut him off urgently. One more word, and I'd throttle him. Glaring fiercely to convey that, Ethan shut his mouth. Instead, he grabbed my arm and yanked me down. I plopped back onto the sofa reflexively.

"Stay here."

"Pardon?"

Flustered, I glanced at Vincent. Seeing his slightly furrowed expression revealing discomfort made my stomach twist. This might be an important talk—surely I shouldn't be here.

But every time I tried to stand, he'd pull me back down, so I kept lifting and dropping my hips. I shot him pleading looks to stop, but he ignored them.

This just makes us look suspicious.

I felt his piercing gaze.

"You two seem close."

Vincent flopped onto the opposite sofa. Unable to escape, I hung my head low.

"We know each other. She worked at our mansion before, remember?"

"For acquaintances, you seem awfully intimate."

"Well, we share secrets. Call it a partnership?"

Ethan's casual remark was bound to spark misunderstandings where there were none. I shot him a horrified glare, then noticed Vincent's eyes and ducked my head again. The stare boring into my skull stung.

"There's dessert left. Want some?"

Ethan slid over a plate with sweet chocolate cake remaining.

"No thanks."

"It's super sweet but good. Here."

Ethan pushed the plate closer to Vincent and even poured him tea, so Vincent finally gave in and picked up the cup.

The teacup clinked against the saucer. That was the only sound. After that, neither Vincent nor Ethan said a word. Vincent, who had come with something to say, just chewed his cake, while Ethan silently downed his tea.

Wind blew through the open window, rustling the leaves, but not a whisper of human voices escaped. They didn't even glance at each other, as if by agreement.

Caught between them, I kept stealing glances.

Now I was certain. The tension I'd sensed last time wasn't my imagination. The room, thick with silence, brimmed with heavy atmosphere. Uncomfortable air enveloped the two. They weren't exactly warm friends, but even five years ago, it hadn't been this bad. Now it felt suffocatingly awkward.

Being stuck between them made me uncomfortable too.

'I want to run.'

My hips fidgeted.

"M-more tea?"

Gathering courage to ease the stiff mood, I lifted the teapot, but Vincent just flicked a glance without responding. I froze rigidly, reaching my limit of patience. Does he want me to pour or not? If only he'd say what he came to say and leave, but Vincent silently munched his cake excruciatingly slowly, as if analyzing every ingredient.

In the end, I quietly refilled his empty cup without a word.

Then I tentatively offered Ethan.

"More for you?"

"I'm good."

A curt refusal. I shrank back dejectedly.

Silence again. My hand holding the teapot trembled. If I excused myself saying I had business, would he see through the lie? Does he even care that much about me? I had no idea what this situation was, but staying like this would drive me mad first. I racked my brain for an escape.

"Didn't you say you had something to tell me?"

Ethan finally broke the ice. Only then did Vincent set down his cup and meet his eyes.

"Why stay here?"

"What're you talking about all of a sudden? Just resting for a few days."

"Give me a real reason."

"Think of it as a short vacation here."

"Besides that."

Ethan's eyes widened.

"What exactly do you want me to say?"

"I'm asking what you'll be doing while staying here."

"What do you think I'm gonna do?"

"That's why I'm asking—because I think you might do something."

"You think I have some ulterior motive for staying here?"

"Yes."

Ethan faltered at the firm reply but soon chuckled playfully.

"Don't talk nonsense. I'm just here to rest."

"Here, specifically."

"Robert's here."

"I hope that's really it."

Vincent's retort carried a thorn. Ethan must have felt it too; he draped an arm over the backrest and propped his chin on his hand. His head tilted crookedly, suggesting displeasure, but his blank expression hid his true feelings. Ethan gazed steadily at Vincent.