“Am I being foolish?”

Right after her husband left, Louisa sank onto a nearby leisure stool. She felt incredibly stupid.

The pain was intense, yet why did she keep fostering hope only to shatter it repeatedly?

She felt on the verge of tears.

But she had to hold them back. They were still outside, and soon Edward and Curtis would return.

A famous tragic heroine from a play came to her mind, vowing to forget unrequited love but never managing to do so and ultimately taking her own life.

Her current state felt just like that character’s. Determined to give up, yet always caught in a cycle of hope and disappointment.

“How should I deal with this, Mother…” she thought, yearning for her family’s embrace, especially her mother’s.

The picnic ended in an ambiguous mood.

The two men who returned around lunchtime didn’t seem to have much appetite, and neither did Louisa. She struggled to eat even one sandwich and eventually stopped.

Seeing this, Edward didn’t bother to eat more and began cleaning up. The outing ended with much of the packed lunch uneaten.

Mrs. Johnson welcomed them back.

She attentively listened to their conversation. They seemed fine on the surface, encouraging each other after a hard day and exchanging simple goodbyes.

But Mrs. Johnson sensed a subtle awkwardness between them. While pondering this, Louisa handed her the picnic basket.

“Here, we had a good meal, Agatha.”

Mrs. Johnson, taking the basket, understood why she felt that way. The picnic basket, expected to be lighter after a joyful outing, was still heavy. The amount of uneaten food indicated the outing was not as successful as it should have been.

Something had to change; this couple needed a new catalyst.

Mrs. Johnson called out to them as they started ascending the stairs.

“Sir, Ma’am.”

Both turned around.

“Tomorrow’s opera house visit, I’ve prepared your outing clothes.”

“Ah…”

Louisa, remembering the plan for the next day, looked up at Edward.

She silently hoped to cancel the plan.

She was too exhausted and didn’t want to spend any more emotional energy on anything involving her husband. For now, she just wanted to rest, keeping her distance from everything related to him.

However, Edward’s response was different from her wish.

“We’re tired now. Let’s talk about it before bed. We’ll decide then.”

“Okay.”

Louisa lowered her gaze to the floor, disheartened by their exchange.

Edward’s maintained facade finally broke.

He remembered a dawn in the pouring rain, a haunting memory he would never forget.
“Am I foolish?”

As soon as her husband left, Louisa collapsed onto a nearby stool. She felt incredibly silly, wondering why she kept fostering hope only to be repeatedly heartbroken.

She fought back tears, knowing they were still in public and that Edward and Curtis would soon return. A tragic heroine from a famous play, unable to forget unrequited love, leading to her demise, crossed her mind. Her own situation felt eerily similar.

“What should I do, Mother?” Louisa longed for her family’s comfort, especially her mother’s.

The picnic ended in an ambiguous atmosphere.

Returning around lunchtime, both men appeared uninterested in food, a sentiment shared by Louisa. She struggled to eat even one sandwich, leaving much of the lunch uneaten.

Mrs. Johnson greeted them, noticing their conversation seemed normal, yet detected subtle awkwardness. As Louisa handed her the still-heavy picnic basket, Mrs. Johnson realized the outing hadn’t been successful.

Recognizing a change was needed, Mrs. Johnson called out to them.

“Sir, Ma’am.”

The couple, ascending the stairs, turned around.

“Tomorrow’s opera house visit, I’ve prepared your clothes.”

Louisa, recalling tomorrow’s plan, glanced at Edward, silently hoping to cancel.

Exhausted, she didn’t want to invest more emotions in activities involving her husband. She desired rest and distance from anything related to him.

However, Edward’s reply differed.

“We’re tired now. Let’s talk later before bed.”

“Okay.”

Louisa’s gaze fell to the floor, her spirits dropping.

Edward’s maintained facade finally cracked.

He remembered a dawn in the pouring rain, a haunting memory he couldn’t forget.

It was the same expression he had seen that day.

They silently continued upstairs.

Reaching his room first, Edward paused to look back. Louisa’s slow steps seemed particularly listless.

Should he speak to her?

Fearing her response, yet unsettled by her expression, Edward finally called out.

“Louisa.”

She stopped, and Edward, receiving no response, spoke first.

“If you’re feeling unwell, tell me.”

Louisa, silent, continued walking and briefly spoke before entering her room.

“Rest well.”

Click.

She closed the door.

Edward, alone in the hallway, then entered his room, hoping to improve her mood at dinner.

But that evening, Louisa didn’t appear, citing discomfort. Edward couldn’t meet her again that day.

In the deep night, a nauseous Louisa awoke from light sleep.

She rose from bed, feeling unwell, likely due to the forced sandwich from earlier.