Even if Your Regret Holds Me Back (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 6
Ding—.
The thin, round coin slipped through Eugene’s fingers. It rolled across the mahogany desk and came to rest against a small picture frame.
Eugene tapped his index finger lightly on the number engraved on the coin, his gaze fixed blankly on the woman in the frame.
Expressionless yet exuding flawless elegance—this was the woman who had abruptly left home, leaving only divorce papers behind, and vanished without a trace.
Even she once had a time when she rolled like this coin.
Fifty Czants. The witch obsessed with money.
That was another name given to Helena during the days she was still Helena Owen. Everyone in the village of Haier called her that.
They claimed that for fifty Czants, she would spend the night with anyone—from a greenhorn whose peach fuzz hadn’t even grown in, to a white-haired elder.
Of course, on her late mother’s name, Helena was innocent.
It all started when she rejected the confession of the second son of the Duphon baron. Spiteful, he must have been the one who first spread the rumor.
But as always, the truth didn’t matter—what mattered was how delicious the gossip sounded.
Unfortunately, Helena’s existence was exactly that.
A beautiful young lady from a family reduced to nothing but straw.
Labeling her as a loose woman was sweet enough bait to pass eagerly from mouth to mouth.
⌜Pepper saw her leaving Colton’s house last night.⌟
⌜Just the day before yesterday, wasn’t she working at Smith’s butcher shop? Like a fox, she couldn’t stay put and already moved her nest again.⌟
⌜Tsk, when will she come to my shop?⌟
With every job she changed, the version of Helena she didn’t know grew increasingly stripped bare.
Shopkeepers whose blatant advances she rejected covered their shame by hurling their filth at her.
Yet Helena had to endure it. She was the only one who could earn the medicine money for her chronically ill younger brother, Basil, while the Owen family drowned in alcohol and gambling.
She didn’t mind becoming a falsely branded harlot if it meant saving him.
It was then that Eugene appeared.
“Are you Helena Owen?”
At a time when Helena had grown more accustomed to being called Fifty Czants than by her real name, he called her by it properly.
Six years ago, Eugene returned victorious from a long war everyone had deemed hopeless.
Though it was merely a temporary truce in the grand scheme, the Kingdom Alliance hastily declared defeat before Eugene, who had beheaded enemy commanders one after another.
He encountered Helena right on the path of his triumphant return. Gladly, he pulled her into his own ruins.
She was the woman who overturned his entire life and burrowed deep within it. Her mere existence claimed salvation. He could boldly declare it divine fate.
His life, already worn thin by his father’s sudden death and years of bloody conflict—into its center, a woman had abruptly dropped from nowhere.
If this wasn’t love, what else could possibly describe it?
Thus, he had to have her. Possession was the only way to quench that desire.
His mother Christine fiercely opposed it, but even she had to relent before the Bohemian king’s encouragement.
The king readily accepted Eugene’s decision. He even swallowed the engagement proposal he’d quietly planned with the imperial princess and welcomed Eugene’s announcement of marrying for love with unusual delight.
Not because he favored Helena—but likely because he was pleased Eugene had chosen a path different from his dear friend Aslan Evergale. Whatever the reason, Eugene was grateful.
“I’ll come again tomorrow. And the day after, and next week too.”
Eugene promised a future to Helena, whose life felt as fleeting as a mayfly’s.
He eradicated the Duphon family—the origin of the rumors—without Helena ever knowing. He paid off all the debts of the fallen Owen family.
Yet he didn’t end the rumors. He didn’t search for a physician to cure Basil’s illness. He never pretended to be a perfect savior.
‘There can be no light without darkness.’
Eugene pitied her suffering in harsh conditions yet welcomed the very things that pushed her deeper into despair.
Only when the ground beneath her feet kept crumbling, leaving her nowhere to stand, would she rely on him more easily.
“Please go now. And I’d prefer if you never came looking for me again.”
Because after this, such words of refusal would no longer come easily.
It was the first time Eugene had ever been rejected.
He never dreamed the very first rejection—the kind he despised most for its naivety and imperfection—would come from an insignificant country girl.
Therefore, he had to become her own unforgettable first. He had to be the light she clung to without hesitation.
So Eugene decided to restore her precious name fully—not as Fifty Czants, but by attaching his own surname to hers.
“Marry me, Helena Evergale.”
Fortunately—and as expected—it took some time, but Helena eventually became exactly that.
“I’ll gladly become Helena Evergale.”
When she accepted his proposal, Eugene felt a euphoria akin to the moment he’d announced victory on the battlefield. If he loved her, he loved her intensely.
Now, though much had changed, that beginning had grown dull and ordinary. The rumors had festered into scandal, gnawing away at both of them until they finally subsided.
Of course, Eugene refused to admit—refused even to acknowledge—it. She was the one who needed awareness.
Even jagged stones, worn by sea winds, eventually yield grains of sand. It made even less sense to expect their marriage to remain forever like their honeymoon.
‘Don’t make me think the fault lies with me, Helena.’
Just as Natasha had her place, Helena had hers—the moment he’d met her, it had already been decided.
That was all.
[This is the timeline separator]Helena of Pretterita.
A rose blooming between stone walls.
Though she’d left just before reaching full bloom, it made her memory all the more vividly radiant.
Twelve-year-old Paul, who lived behind her house, remembered her.
His older brother Theo, who’d spent far more time with her, must have remembered even more. It was another piercing reminder that Theo had left this world first.
Still, Paul answered as earnestly as he could to the tall man with gentle eyes, standing like the great tree at the village entrance.
The man said he’d come looking for Helena.
When told she was no longer in Pretterita, his expression hardened slightly—but noticeably relaxed upon hearing the Owens had moved to Haier.
“Thank you for telling me. Please handle your brother’s funeral properly.”
Who would’ve thought such a stroke of luck would fall from the sky?
The large man left as suddenly as he’d come. Paul slowly opened his palm. Five gold coins, oddly bright against his grimy skin, glimmered there.
“Huh…!”
Occasionally, gentlemen passing through the village would give coins for small errands—but none ever handed out heavy golden coins like these.
Paul stomped his feet in confusion, then quickly handed the coins to his grandfather and hurried after Ian.
“Wait! Just a moment!”
Ian and Dion stopped walking. Paul bent at the knees, catching his breath, then abruptly thrust out his fist.
“H-here, take this!”
It was the bouquet he’d just placed on his brother’s grave. The stems, crushed from his tight grip, were already wilting.
Paul’s face flushed hot with embarrassment.
“I’m sorry it’s all I have… But it’s the prettiest thing I own…”
His voice trailed off even further. His grimy fist, clenched in shame, didn’t know where to hide.
Would someone carrying gold coins like spare change even care for such a humble flower? Paul regretted his impulsive gesture.
But Ian carefully took the bouquet from the boy’s outstretched fist. Bringing it to his nose, he inhaled its fragrance and smiled pleasantly.
“Marigold.”
“…Huh?”
“This flower’s name is Marigold. Just as you and I have names, even this little wildflower has a name someone hopes will be known.”
Ian gently looked down at the boy.
“What’s your name?”
“P-Paul. Grandfather found me on the roadside, but Theo named me.”
“Theo…?”
Ian’s lips tightened slightly. His eyes went distant, as if a certain word had jammed his thoughts—like he was skimming through a fragment of the past.
After a brief silence, Ian looked down at Paul with deepened eyes.
“…I see. Paul, thank you for the lovely flower. Your grandfather gave Theo a wonderful little brother.”
“Do you really think so?”
“Theo must have been happy to have you. Even I, meeting you for the first time, can tell that much.”
Ian ruffled the boy’s hair. Paul bowed his head and quickly returned to the old man.
Dion, who’d been watching from a few paces away, sidled up and pouted.
“Honestly, you’re incredibly, overwhelmingly kind. Can’t you treat me like that just once?”
“I’m not so generous as to endure a complaining subordinate.”
Ian turned away coldly. The warmth he’d shown the child had vanished completely. Dion, unfazed, lazily bowed his head and fell into step beside him.
“Yes, of course. Silence is golden. And since I’ve got neither gold nor anything else, I’ll just stay quiet on my own.”
Ian, no longer casting him glances, strode ahead along the carrot field, still firmly holding the crumpled wildflower.
Dion tilted his head in puzzlement.
‘Why on earth is he keeping that?’
Danger detection was a learned skill for Dion, but curiosity was the primal whisper that stirred him—enough to risk danger itself.
“But seriously, just one last question—may I?”
“If it’s pointless, prepare to be planted upside down beside these carrots.”
Ian’s brow furrowed at the reckless inquiry. Dion immediately pointed at the flower.
“Are you really not going to throw that away? It’s not even rare—just a common roadside bloom… Ah. Wait. Could it be…? No, surely not…?”
Suddenly realizing something, Dion covered his mouth in shock. Instead of scolding him, Ian’s eyes crinkled into a quiet smile.
“You really do belong beside these carrots. You even look alike. Maybe this carrot was once a man like you, cursed into this shape.”
Hmm. He’s using ‘you’ again. Alarm bells ringing.
“I’m sorry.”
“Oh, aren’t you that very uncle who emptied his entire fortune and fled the night before your Academy enrollment? Why not go talk to him? Maybe he’ll burst out of the soil, roots covered in dirt, shouting, ‘Why are you only coming now?’”
“My deepest apologies.”
“He might even still have the stolen fortune buried nearby. Dig around—it’d help with security funds.”
“I must’ve been momentarily insane.”
“Then go do your job.”
“Yes, sir. Your loyal servant, Dion Cedric, shall now depart to prepare for Your Majesty’s safe arrival at the destination.”
The rash servant dashed off at full speed, terrified of being buried upside down in the carrot field. His figure vanished faster than ever.
Left alone, Ian gazed blankly at the sky. Gray clouds gathered, threatening to unleash a downpour at any moment.
Slowly opening his flower-clutching hand, the lingering scent of blooms rose faintly from the green-stained palm. Old memories began to blend naturally.
⌜Theo’s grandfather once said: ‘Even if you don’t have it now, wanting something—desiring it—is called desire. So desiring isn’t a sin. It’s only natural to want what you want.’⌟
She’d appeared like a single beam of lamplight in the dark. Her voice, those nights—he’d never forgotten them for a moment.
⌜Trample everyone who brought you to this state. Seize it. Climb to the highest place and show them all—make it so they can’t help but see you.⌟
Ian also remembered the feel of the girl’s skin against his fingertips. It wasn’t a gentle, engraved pulse.
⌜So they know the one they abandoned breathes proudly, lives fully, and exists undeniably.⌟
It was a ruthless heartbeat—driving deep like a stake hammered into the earth.
When yandere male lead believes she loves him — but she never did
“How dare you!”
“How dare you make me love you, only to cast me aside as nothing more than a friend?!?
“I will never accept that.”
“I will never let you return to him.”
“Even if I have to burn myself to ashes.”
“Even if I must shatter my purity, my dignity, my very soul.”
“I will never let you escape me!”
This was the first novel that introduced me to the matriarchal genre. I’ve read it three times already!
At first, the male lead despised the female lead. Later, he misunderstood that she liked him, so he condescendingly and reluctantly reciprocated her feelings.
Then, he suddenly discovered that she was kind to everyone in the same way, and there was already someone she cherished in her heart, and that person was not him.
The male lead couldn’t believe it, he became angry and crazy. He was determined to capture her body and heart by any means necessary.
Synopsis:
Want to see how a green tea bitch male lead falls in love with the female lead?
Want to see how he flirtatiously pursues the female lead?
Want to see how he gets slapped in the face repeatedly?
The male lead is a green tea bitch, a poisonous lotus, jealous, ruthless, unscrupulous, with a venomous heart, and he’s also a delusional maniac.
The female lead is righteous, positive energy-filled, kind, a holy mother.
Let’s see how two people with extreme personalities come together~
_____
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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 🤔