An Incomplete Divorce - Chapter 35

“Let’s go, Anne.”

Olivia began striding forward purposefully.

Initially, she had planned to remain inconspicuous and quietly leave as the staff member had advised on the first day, but not anymore. It was already the fourth day. This was truly too much.

She had thought to silently endure the unpleasant treatment since her entry wasn’t unanimously decided by the members. But no more. The deadline she set for herself was right here.

“My lady? The carriage is this way.”

Anne said, thinking her mistress might be confused about the direction.

“We’re not leaving, Anne.”

“Pardon?”

Anne, who had been inwardly relieved at the thought of returning home, asked in surprise. She had been angry all along about why her lady had to suffer such treatment here.

“We’re looking for a place to practice.”

Surely there couldn’t be just this one court on such a vast property.

Olivia trotted towards Court 11. Then 10, 9… Her brisk steps halted abruptly in front of the last court. Her sea-colored eyes narrowed slightly as she gazed at the grass court.

Not a single empty court.

Whether it was due to the British’s extraordinary love for tennis or a clear warning to Olivia, she guessed it was the latter. ‘There’s no place for you here.’

Olivia turned back with Anne. Their steps dragging as they left the courts and walked along the promenade. The broad leaf shadows of deciduous trees flickered restlessly over her white shoes.

Lost in thought, Olivia walked along the straight path.

Following the chirping of birds and the sound of flowing water from somewhere, a magnificent fountain appeared at the center where the walkways intersected.

Seeing the water shooting up refreshingly, that man suddenly came to mind. Edgar Lancaster Lancelot.

The grand fountain of the Lancelot Hotel and the tennis court. And that day when she competed with that man.

Should she ask for help?

Olivia cautiously entertained such a thought, but then shook her head.

No. No way.

It was already complicated enough being entangled with that man and Princess Anblyn; she couldn’t create more trouble here.

Being that man’s lover?

Even as she thought it was nonsense, the nape of her neck flushed hot. As Olivia absent-mindedly rubbed her nape, her eyes caught sight of a small building behind the thick landscaping trees.

The width of the wall was similar to the length of a tennis court.

Her deep blue eyes, like sunlight reflecting off water, began to sparkle.

As she approached, she saw that the entrance was secured with a padlock, and a gold panel in the center of the door read ‘Supply Warehouse’.

Standing on tiptoe to peer inside the window, fortunately, it didn’t seem like anyone was residing there.

Olivia took out her racket from her white leather bag and stood at a suitable distance.

“Oh, my lady?”

“That’s right. I’m going to practice here, Anne.”

Olivia smiled brightly as she lightly warmed up.

Gently bouncing the ball taken from the box on the ground, Olivia exhaled a long breath, then quickly inhaled as she tossed the ball into the air.

“My lady!”

Bang! The sound of the racket strings hitting the ball echoed through the air.

Anne, who had buried her face in her palms out of fear that the window might shatter, slowly raised her head.

Anne’s worries were unfounded. Olivia’s ball landed precisely as if measured with a ruler.

Olivia relentlessly hit back the ball that bounced quickly off the wall. Her breathing gradually became rougher.

Hitting the ball while avoiding the glass windows was more difficult than expected, and soon her calves began to tighten.

Her fair cheeks flushed with the pink of a spring day, and transparent beads of sweat formed on her forehead.

The sound of the ball striking the wall echoed through the previously quiet club.

What on earth is this…

Passersby began to stop one by one, their eyebrows quivering in surprise.

The woman they thought had meekly gone home, out of sight, was now struggling against a wall, and it was quite an unusual sight.

“One of those pristine windows is bound to shatter.”

The men snorted derisively.

“Shall we bet on how many will break?”

They snickered mockingly. By this point, one might expect her concentration to waver. But the woman continued to hit the ball without showing any sign of disturbance.

The spectators, who had been watching with crossed arms and askew postures, soon became engrossed in the woman’s textbook-perfect form as she struck the ball.

Her focused shots aimed at one spot drew admiration. Muffled exclamations of wonder escaped here and there whenever her precise shots narrowly avoided the windows.

Occasionally, when the ball seemed about to shatter a glass pane, they held their breath, only to let out unguarded sighs of relief when it just barely hit the window frame.

“She’s crazy. Absolutely crazy.”

The spectators clicked their tongues.

Olivia carelessly wiped the sweat from her forehead with her forearm and checked the time. Fifteen minutes to twelve. It was time to end practice.

After catching her breath for a moment, Olivia served her last ball.

The ball soared skyward, and her body sprang up with all its might. It was one of the moments Olivia loved.

As her gaze followed the lime-green ball upward, a window on the third floor of the main building behind the supply warehouse caught her eye. Her eyes met those of a man leaning on the windowsill, looking down at her.

“!”

Though it was too far to see clearly, it was that man. A feeling more accurate than sight told her so.

Edgar.

In that dazed moment, the ball fell before her eyes. Startled, Olivia swung her racket belatedly, and a moment later, a loud crashing sound echoed across the quiet club grounds.

Good heavens!

Over the head of the startled Olivia, the man’s laughter seemed to carry on the wind. A very cheerful sound.

Under the noon sun, Olivia’s face turned crimson.

Even after that, the club members’ hostility remained unchanged. Olivia diligently stood in front of Court 12. The time was invariably 8:55. It was already the fourth day.

Today too, she stood there in a neat posture, waiting for the game to end.

“Let’s just give up here, Chairman.”

Charles, the club’s management supervisor, pleaded while eyeing Russell nervously.

“There’s already talk among the members.”

The Dumblin Club members were divided into conservatives betting on whether she would break the glass today or not, and sympathizers who questioned the need for such pettiness over a mere court.

She was a woman backed by Lancelot Co. Even the club owner was on her side. If they wanted to use it, it would be as easy as taking candy from a three-year-old to get a court using their power.

But the woman was simply doing her best.

That sight was enough to touch the hearts of the stubborn men.

“At this rate, Dumblin Club will be known as small-minded.”

Russell neither listened nor cared, focusing only on his own affairs.

“If this gets in the news, what will happen to our image?”

Russell didn’t even snort at Charles’s concerns.

‘She dared to beat and humiliate my son, so she must pay the price.’ Russell had incited the members to occupy the tennis courts.

Thanks to the men who united in the face of crisis, Olivia Blanchet had not yet set foot on the court. Russell’s mustache twitched.

“My, you’re being awfully petty, sir.”

“What?”

The face buried in documents snapped up.

“Am I wrong?”

“Charles!”

“Yes, Chairman!”

Charles shouted loudly. Russell’s ears rang.

Charles was furious. If this was going to happen, they shouldn’t have allowed entry in the first place.

It’s not right to toy with people like this. Didn’t it look pitiful, her standing there in front of the storage building with no proper place to rest?

“Just say one word to tell them to stop.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Chairman!”

Just as the two men’s gazes locked in a tense standoff, sparks about to fly, an employee burst through the chairman’s office door, panting heavily.

“What’s the matter, barging in without knocking!”

Russell bellowed.

His anger flew in an unexpected direction. The employee, belatedly sensing the atmosphere, moved his lips.

“Th-that is…”

“That is what!”

Russell pressed, irritated.

“Miss Blanchet has started practicing.”

“What did you say?”

The gazes of Russell and Charles, who had been glaring at each other, flew to the employee in an instant.

“Wh-where?”

They both asked simultaneously.

“On Court 12.”

It was nine o’clock. Olivia turned around with a calm expression. Just as she was about to take a step towards the supply warehouse, a voice came from behind her.

“You finished on time today.”

Olivia turned around, startled.

Her blue eyes widened as she stared at the man walking out of the court. Her expression was one of disbelief, as if encountering heavy snow in midsummer.

Passing by Olivia, who wore such an expression, the man wiped his sweat with a towel handed to him by an employee and said,

“Do your best.”

The man gave a light bow. He requested the employee to bring drinks to the lounge and turned around. Olivia, who had been staring blankly at his figure, hurriedly asked.

“…Why. Why did you change your mind?”

Her voice trembled. The man slowly turned around.

“Dumblin’s tradition is a source of pride for the people here.”

“…”

“That tradition has been broken.”

The man met her gaze.

“If the woman who broke that tradition breaks the second sanctuary and wins, I thought it might help recover some of that wounded pride. That’s all.”

The man smiled and turned away, then looked back at Olivia.

“That’s all nonsense.”

“Pardon?”

“Doing this for three hours is exhausting.”

“…”

“It’s damn tough.”

With a chuckle, the man walked away. Olivia couldn’t take her eyes off him until he disappeared among the lush green landscaping trees. Then, suddenly, she burst into laughter.

‘It’s damn tough.’

With that playful remark, all the upset feelings dissipated like bubbles into the air.

I won.

Taking a deep breath, Olivia slowly walked onto the court.

It had been a week. The grass beneath her feet felt unusually soft.

Olivia closed her eyes and enjoyed the tenderness of the grass. The wind-blown hair tickled the nape of her neck. Just as her heart was about to swell and her eyes grow hot, they suddenly snapped open.

She muttered, looking at the empty court across from her.

But…

Who am I supposed to play with?

It was truly one mountain after another.