Even if Your Regret Holds Me Back (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 3
She began sprinting across the long corridor, her mind in a daze.
Her heart felt as if it would leap out of her chest. The pressure was so overwhelming it turned everything before her eyes stark white.
She was actually fleeing—daring to run away from none other than Eugene Evergale.
“Hah… hah…”
Amidst her heavy breathing, the sound of her heels striking the marble floor rang out cheerfully. This was the very path she had always walked with tiny, restrained steps to keep her attire perfectly composed. The distance, which had always seemed so vast, now felt surprisingly short.
Her wide skirt flared out as it swayed wildly from side to side, and servants scattered along her way stared in shock—but she didn’t stop.
She was already struggling just to breathe, her lungs bursting with air; she had no energy left to care about such things.
For over a decade, she had held her breath and lived beneath the Evergale name.
What a futile hope had carried her through all those years.
Only now, at last, did Helena truly feel a flicker of liberation.
She deliberately buried the strange distortion from moments ago deep inside.
She simply kicked off her high heels and, as though transported back to childhood, ran barefoot up the stairs.
Reaching her room in one swift dash, she tore off the cumbersome dress—earrings, necklace, bracelets—all flung carelessly onto the bed.
Instead, she put on the plain empire-waist dress she’d worn upon first arriving here. Compared to Eugene’s lavish gifts, it was plain to the point of starkness, yet she liked herself far better this way.
“I’m leaving everything behind, one by one.”
After smoothing her clothes, she stood before the mirror and saw her hair intricately braided up. It was the very style she’d always insisted on—for Eugene, who favored neatness above all.
Because of it, Helena had risen an hour earlier each day without fail; her naturally wavy hair simply wouldn’t stay straight otherwise.
She had spent all that time styling her hair without a trace of complaint, thinking only of him.
But now, Helena yanked out the hairpins without hesitation. One by one, the ornaments fell away, and her tresses loosened.
When she looked back into the mirror, a cascade of red waves rippled down to her waist.
“Hoo…”
She drew in a deep breath and slowly exhaled.
The woman in the mirror wasn’t smiling—but she looked alive.
[This is the timeline separator]“Your Grace. My lady has just left. Shall I assign a knight to accompany her?”
“…No. Leave her be.”
Despite Butler Gordon’s worried inquiry, Eugene shook his head. His jaw, fixed toward the window, was rigid with tension.
At the end of his gaze, his wife strode forward without restraint. Instead of her usual tightly coiffed hair, it now streamed wildly behind her.
Without even glancing back, she calmly walked out of the mansion.
Eugene merely watched Helena’s retreating figure as she passed through the main gate. He didn’t try to stop her.
Indulging in a passing whim would be foolish. Lately, she’d often been unable to control sudden emotional swings.
“She left with nothing—no maid, no carriage, nothing.”
Her family had fallen into ruin long ago, and for years she’d clung to him for survival. She’d feigned some semblance of composure since their marriage—but how long would that last?
She was a woman who’d been practically sold off to him with nothing but her pretty face. With no money, no spare clothes, and nowhere to go, her fate outside was obvious. If she lasted even a few hours, it would be impressive.
“She’ll come back on her own soon enough.”
Eugene resolved that when she returned, he’d greet her as if nothing had happened—no scolding, no reproach.
He’d engrave into her bones the truth that this place alone offered her comfort.
She was gentle but clever; she’d surely grasp his underlying intentions. Realizing it this way wouldn’t be so bad.
If today’s spirit was somewhat dampened, she’d never again speak such reckless words.
“Go ahead and play above my head, Helena. I’ll allow you that much illusion.”
Yet contrary to Eugene’s expectations, her actions were far from impulsive.
Having left the ducal mansion, Helena walked briskly toward the city. This was a day she’d planned months in advance.
She’d only lingered before because of lingering attachment—but she might have been waiting for a day like this for over ten years.
Every time, even if the executioner’s blade had severed her neck, she’d awaken into the third year of her marriage to him.
Two years later, he’d meet Natasha—the woman who’d fled a fallen kingdom—and take her as his mistress.
Two more years after that, Natasha would die—by villa fire, carriage crash, or mysterious illness.
No matter how desperately Helena fought in each loop, Natasha always died, and Helena always became the guilty party.
It was a love steeped in guilt, yet Helena had foolishly repeated the same mistake three times.
She loved him so deeply, hoping that if she became a perfect duchess, he might change—worn down by her own helplessness, unable to act decisively.
He was a man terrifyingly consistent.
He kept forcing her to relive his kindness over and over, planting in her heart baseless hopes that would never bloom—and in all those years of endless loops, not once, not even a single time, had he ever believed in her innocence.
Every circumstance was killing her.
Every bit of love had killed her.
Even now, as she opened her eyes on the fifth year.
“Eugene met Natasha right on schedule, as always.”
She already knew he’d been visiting the secluded woods often lately under the guise of hunting.
In that villa built solely for his beloved, he was surely whispering to Natasha the very same words he’d once spoken to her.
And soon, he’d justify taking her as his mistress—claiming she merely needed his public protection, that he felt nothing deeper—telling himself such hollow lies to ease his conscience.
“I must leave before she officially becomes his mistress.”
She no longer felt even the slightest urge to fight Natasha. What value would her life truly hold if she won that way?
Yet she also refused to remain trapped any longer in this gilded mansion. She couldn’t stay beside Eugene, resigned to the fate that awaited her.
“So please—don’t look back at me.”
Helena had finally left Evergale.
[This is the timeline separator]A soft hum floated through the lavishly decorated room.
In the large mirror atop the dressing table at the room’s center, a woman hummed with her eyes closed.
With the woman’s humming as background, her maid continued brushing her hair while speaking gently.
When the maid finished explaining, the woman—who had listened silently—finally opened her eyes.
“Is that everything that’s happened in the mansion lately?”
Her emerald eyes, revealed beneath lush lashes, sparkled brighter than the exquisitely cut emeralds adorning the mirror’s frame, causing the maid to pause her brushing momentarily before replying.
“Yes. It’s a bit surprising—my lady who guarded the mansion all year round suddenly left on a journey.”
As the maid resumed brushing, the woman’s hair rippled like a golden wheat field.
The woman picked up one of the letters resting on the dressing table and smiled as she unfolded it. The elegant handwriting beginning with “To Natasha” had always been a proud testament to her worth.
“Did he show any sign of leaving with her?”
“He said he’ll have frequent business meetings starting tomorrow. Since he ordered the reception room to be kept ready at all times, it seems His Grace will remain at the mansion.”
“I see. Then make sure all my nightdresses are cleaned and prepared. He’ll be coming here soon enough.”
Natasha’s smile deepened. Seeing her mistress’s improved mood, the maid hesitated briefly before carefully speaking again.
“Um… Miss.”
“Yes? Is there something else you’d like to say?”
“I’ve told you everything—so our agreement holds, and my brother may work in the mansion too, right?”
Meeting the maid’s eyes through the mirror, Natasha gave a sweet, reassuring smile.
“Of course. Nothing to worry about. It’s only a matter of time before I become His Grace’s beloved mistress—and I always treat kindly those who become my eyes and ears.”
Natasha placed her hand over the comb midway through her hair and gently caressed the maid’s rough fingers with her own fair, delicate hand.
The maid flinched slightly, but Natasha tightened her grip and pulled her closer.
“You’ll keep being my confidante even after you join the mansion staff, won’t you? I’d be terribly lonely without you. I trust only you, Aida.”
Blushing from Eugene’s arrangement that had placed her as Natasha’s daytime attendant, Aida stammered her reply.
“O-of course, Miss!”
Though her rushed answer was clumsy, it brimmed with loyalty. That tone always gave Natasha a delightful sense of satisfaction.
Natasha kept her gaze fixed through the mirror on the freckles dusting Aida’s face.
“How utterly plain. When poor, one ought to be either beautiful, clever, or talented—but you’re none of those.”
A face marked by life’s hardships was truly rather crude.
“Aida, how is your mother doing these days?”
“She’s much improved thanks to your kindness. I’m truly grateful.”
Aida had an ailing mother to support. And Natasha knew precisely when people became most loyal.
There was nothing easier to manipulate than loyalty born of desperation.
“Yet that woman remains so naive. If you can’t escape desperation, you must climb over others’ belongings to rise.”
Natasha took the comb from Aida’s hand and pressed a hairpin into her palm instead.
It was an expensive pin set with a ruby the size of a pinky nail. A gasp nearly choked from Aida’s throat.
“Oh, Miss…!”
“See? Just one hairpin, and she hands me the leash herself.”
Natasha shifted her gaze from Aida without a moment’s hesitation. Instantly, her vivid green eyes met her own reflection straight ahead.
“Don’t be satisfied with something so trivial—this is only the beginning. From now on, whatever you desire, you’ll obtain even more.”
Because I’ll make it so.
The golden-haired woman in the mirror answered with a radiant smile.
Male lead says he’s pregnant — and it’s female lead’s child
Something seems a bit off about this world.
Wang Zhao thought as she watched a pregnant man walking towards her…
Intro
Female lead finds herself in a world where the men who possess the ability to bear children.
As she navigates this unfamiliar reality, she is caught off guard by the sudden appearance of her boyfriend, who reveals that he is pregnant.
Is this truly her boyfriend?
Why can’t she recall any details about their time together?
She begins to doubt whether the child her boyfriend is carrying is even hers.
Is there a hidden reason behind her amnesia, or could it be a side effect of her sudden arrival in this strange new world?
Just when it seems the protagonist’s life couldn’t become any more entangled, her ex-boyfriend makes an unexpected appearance, raising questions about the protagonist’s past.
__________
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Who cares? 😒 That mf deserves a lot of pain 😒😒😡😡
EXACTLY! She’s with someone else …now you aint shit
Me too 😒 she should have kicked his balls and cut them 🤔