Helena turned her gaze from the window and took another sip of tea. As the warm liquid moistened her mouth, her voice came out softly despite not having spoken for a long time.

“The weather is so clear today.”

“…I see.”

“The tea’s aroma is better than usual too.”

“Is that so.”

Eugene briefly responded while turning to the next page of the newspaper. He didn’t even glance at her. The indifferent man ignored whatever his wife said like a passing breeze.

Not knowing how she had been looking at him for the past few years, and even now.

“Do you know? You don’t make eye contact with others very well.”

“…”

“Well, I suppose that’s to be expected. They just need to nod and move like puppets to the words you give.”

“Your preamble is long, Helena. What are you trying to say?”

“But you always looked me in the eyes. I liked how I looked through your eyes.”

“…How pointless.”

Eugene dismissed her words with a hardened expression. Helena had no choice but to close her mouth. A brief silence fell.

Eugene’s eyes were still fixed on the thin pages of the newspaper.

Tick. Tock.

Only the sound of the clock’s second hand rang out particularly loudly. Soon, the clock hands pointed to four o’clock.

During the afternoon teatime set aside for couples to converse, the only voice rolling across the table was always hers.

Sometimes, this indifference was more suffocating than hatred. At times like this, she even wished he would just hurl insults at her.

Helena swallowed the dulled pain in her chest and took one last look at the man before her.

‘Eugene. Eugene Evergail.’

He was the very definition of perfection, without need for any additional descriptors. He was like a statue crafted by the genius sculptors of the century, eliciting praise without effort.

Despite his strong facial features, his downcast eyelashes were long. Beneath his thick eyebrows, his golden eyes were as vivid as if gold had been embedded in them.

His jawline was straight without any curves, and his sharp nose bridge and jet-black hair contributed to his stern impression.

Helena remembered the sensation of his nose bridge colliding with hers when he first consumed her lips.

How those bony hands had caressed her skin, and how she had made him gasp out her name.

These were moments she had engraved into her body at the beginning of each regression, preventing him from easily giving up.

‘…Now I must let go.’

However, humans cannot live embracing a statue.

Unless the gods, pitying the human who loved a statue, breathed life into it, but sadly, he was already human.

A cold, rigid, changing human.

Perhaps it would have been easier to love a statue instead.

‘No matter how much I endure here, you won’t come back.’

As the sound of paper flipping was heard once more amidst the silence,

Helena set down her teacup.

“So.”

This is the first time trying for the last time.

This is the end with you that I’ve finally reached after a long time.

From this moment on,

“Let’s divorce, us.”

I bid you farewell.

Eugene wasn’t surprised by Helena’s declaration of divorce. He just muttered briefly as before, “I see,” in a passing tone.

However, a few seconds later, his brow furrowed sharply.

“…What?”

It was an uncharacteristically urgent attitude. Though she felt his piercing gaze as if urging her to say something more, Helena paid no heed and emptied her teacup.

“The weather is nice, the tea is fragrant.”

As she slowly raised her gaze, unlike before, their eyes met directly.

“If I could just divorce you, it would be the happiest day I could ask for.”

“You’re now-”

“Eugene.”

Helena cut off his words. For the first time in their long marriage, she interrupted him. Perhaps because of this, Eugene looked more surprised than displeased.

Helena continued speaking unhurriedly.

“Some say they’re happy just seeing flowers on the street, or having a hearty meal. I can’t do that. It’s been that way here until now, and it will continue to be so. So isn’t it okay to be happy for just one day after a long time?”

“Do you know what you’re saying right now?”

“I’m saying let’s divorce.”

Eugene let out a short, empty breath.

“…Come to your senses, Helen. Are you still half asleep?”

His pure golden eyes were tinged with bewilderment.

The eyes she had desperately circled around him, wishing to be in his sight even once more.

Helena found it amusing that she was properly facing those eyes only in this situation. She found herself endlessly ridiculous.

“Don’t you need me to say it once more for you to understand? I no longer want to be by your side.”

Despite her amusing feelings, her tone came out as if giving a review of a boring play. She hoped it sounded that way to him.

“Helena.”

At her unchanged attitude, Eugene finally raised his upper body from the chair’s backrest. He even put down the newspaper he had been holding all along. His face showed that he couldn’t understand at all why the woman who had always been so docile was suddenly acting this way.

“You must have been bored without any parties lately. Still, don’t play such jokes. It’s not very amusing.”

He didn’t know that it had been over three months since he had even set foot in a small tea party. It would be fortunate if it was seen as merely throwing a tantrum out of boredom.

“Seeing you say things you’ve never said before, it seems you need some rest.”

As expected, Eugene dismissed it lightly and leaned back in his chair again.

“Go to the villa in Shahall and refresh yourself. Go shopping with Madame Grand or something. Don’t make such a show of it to me. Do I need to tell you even that?”

There was a faint sneer mixed in his slightly raised tone.

Helena didn’t know whether to cry or laugh. He was quite an amazing man in many ways, though he was her husband.

‘I was the fool for loving someone like you.’

“No. It’s what I’ve been wanting to say every moment.”

And it seemed she was still a fool. Seeing how much courage it took just to utter this one sentence.

Helena forcibly opened her tightened throat.

“I’ve already prepared all the divorce papers, so it’ll be over once you sign. It’s what you wanted anyway, isn’t it?”

Her voice came out more resolute than ever before. That was fortunate.

As she raised her downcast eyes, Eugene was unable to continue speaking.

‘Because now you’ll love that woman instead of me.’

The teacup was already empty, and there was no reason to waste time with pointless conversation anymore.

Helena stood up without hesitation.

“If you have nothing more to say, I’ll be going now. I need to prepare to leave.”

Just as she was about to turn around, her arm was grabbed. Eugene had closed the distance in a single step.

He pulled her arm, forcing her to look at him, and asked,

“Leave? Where to?”

“Anywhere.”

“What do you mean, where are you going? This is your home.”

“Don’t be mistaken. This is Eugene Evergail’s home, not mine. Where is Helena Owen’s place here?”

At the point where she used the surname Owen instead of Evergail, Eugene growled as if scraping his vocal cords.

“Are you in your right mind?”

Helena furrowed her brows. She felt considerable force on her wrist.

It was somewhat comforting to know that she would look like someone wincing in pain from her arm hurting.

“I’m more clear-headed than ever.”

As she raised her arm to remove his hand, her long sleeve rode up. The sleeves that reached her wrists were wide.

Moreover, they were adorned with elaborate frills, making them cumbersome. They were also quite heavy and long, often causing her to stumble as they caught on her feet.

The dress Eugene had brought as a gift on their last wedding anniversary. Her closet was full of such grandiose things.

“…Your gifts were always like glass slippers.”

Glass slippers that didn’t fit, making her realize her place as she tried to force her feet into them.

If she wanted to make the clicking sound, she had to endure the pain. He only heard the sound of his own shoes and nothing else.

‘I know everything from what kind of fabric you prefer, to which year’s wine from the Burgundy region you like, to which corner of your mouth rises slightly more when you smile.’

These were all things that no longer mattered.

A tilted relationship couldn’t be leveled no matter how hard one tried. The scale itself had to be completely broken to escape.

She no longer had anything to expect from him. He had made it impossible to hope.

Neither as a husband, nor as a mere cohabitant who had spent a long time together.

“Helena. Sit down for now. Don’t regret it later.”

This time, Eugene gently pulled her arm. It seemed he had taken her momentary pause in pushing him away, as she was lost in thought, as a positive response.

The distance she had struggled to create was rendered useless in an instant.

Following when he pulled, moving when he pushed. She no longer wanted to fall into his arms like an injured bird. She had to cut it off before it became irreversible.

Helena shook off her lingering attachment and brushed his hand away.

“This dress is yours too, so I should leave it behind. Thanks for reminding me. I appreciate it.”

With a dry, crackling sound, his hand fell away.

At that moment, her insides twisted strangely. Her chest ached.

Was it anxiety, or relief?

Helena slowly backed away towards the exit. Eugene, frozen in place, was staring at her. His pupils glinted like those of a predator about to pounce on its prey.

“…”

As their gazes met, his lips moved slightly. But he didn’t call her name.

Helena left him behind and immediately turned around, exiting the indoor garden.