Thus Began Your Regret (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 8

Unlike the past few days, Edward looked quite neat today.

It was thanks to Jeffrey, who had finally persuaded him—previously holed up solely in his lab without even going home—with the words, “How can you be sure the telegram reply hasn’t already arrived at the mansion?”

Of course, there was no telegram he’d been hoping for at home either. Yet Edward couldn’t bring himself to give up, and even now he kept glancing at the door from time to time.

Then, a few hours later, he heard someone announce a visitor from outside.

Before the assigned staff member could even move, Edward had already overturned his chair with a loud crash and dashed out.

Edward flung the door open and fixed his gaze intensely on the courier standing before him.

The courier glanced briefly at the door that had brushed past his nose, then shrank back slightly as he held out a single sheet of paper.

“Here you go, sir. A telegram addressed to Mr. Allen.”

Edward quickly snatched the paper the man offered. With trembling hands, he hastily unfolded it.

What had arrived wasn’t the reply from Louisa he’d been yearning for, but news from home of her return.

Edward stared at the words written on the paper for a long while.

Still gazing blankly at the paper in his hand, he folded it twice and tucked it deep into his jacket pocket.

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Jeffrey was seriously pondering.

Was this company really going to be all right?

The president of the company he worked for had now entered a new realm altogether, displaying endless restlessness.

For instance, instead of just staring at the door, he’d fidget anxiously with his arms crossed, repeatedly switch which leg was crossed over the other, and had even taken out his handkerchief to wipe his hands from time to time.

Unable to bear it any longer, Jeffrey approached him and spoke.

“President.”

“What.”

“It seems the message you’ve been waiting for so eagerly has finally come. Isn’t that right?”

“I really hate guys like you who are so damn perceptive.”

“Thank you for the kind words. So then, why exactly are you still here?”

“What’s it to you?”

Jeffrey waved his hand in the air a few times as if about to tear his hair out. He glared at his boss and declared,

“Oh, before our ever-so-brilliant president, I shall cease all worries. Good day!”

Jeffrey spun abruptly on his heel and began walking away. Edward let out a soft groan and, reluctantly, called out in a faint, strained voice.

“I just don’t know what I should do, that’s all.”

Ever since receiving the telegram, he’d been lost in thought but still found no answer. If they met, he absolutely had to get his wife to retract her words—but he still hadn’t figured out how.

Jeffrey paused mid-stride and gently turned his head back.

“President. You do realize we’re in a rather critical period right now, don’t you?”

“Do you think I wouldn’t know that?”

“I’d usually prefer to feign ignorance and take your side, but this isn’t something you can just avoid.”

Jeffrey let out a sigh. He circled back to Edward’s side, picked up his bag and overcoat, and said,

“I’ll stay here for the time being, so go ahead and take care of it. And it’d be even better if you came back looking a bit more refreshed.”

“If I only knew how to fix it, I’d have gone long ago.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake. President.”

Jeffrey closed his eyes tightly, as if truly at his limit. He pointed first to his head, then to the floor, and said,

“Solve it—even if you have to bury your head in the ground. Understood?”

Edward opened his mouth as if to say something, then pressed his lips shut. After letting out a deep sigh, he rose from his seat and took the bag Jeffrey held out to him.

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On the day they were to depart Quenel, Rachel visibly looked wistful.

Even as they sat on the train and it began to pull away, she kept chattering nonstop—“It truly felt like a dream. When in my life will I ever have such a day again?”—recounting her impressions of the trip, and Louisa offered the occasional nod and murmur of agreement.

After a long while of rattling along until her mind felt numb, the conductor’s voice announcing their arrival finally broke through.

“Lindbrum… Lindbrum Station…”

The familiar word stuck oddly in her ear.

Following the crowd’s bustling movement, Louisa stepped off the train as well.

The scene before her eyes was no different from usual.

People waiting for someone, and others moving briskly through them.

As she took a step forward, she felt the rustling texture of paper against her chest.

Louisa turned her head and scanned left and right through the crowd. Rachel, standing beside her, suddenly cried out.

“Oh! It’s Mr. Johnson. He’s right over there!”

With an “uff!” she hoisted her luggage. But Louisa remained rooted in place.

Lost in thought as she stared blankly at the people around her, Rachel called out again.

“Mistress?”

Even after Rachel’s call, Louisa stood still for a long moment, her gaze fixed intently on something far off, as if searching for someone.

The train’s departure bell rang out loudly.

The platform, now emptied after the rush of passengers, grew quiet. Paul Johnson, who had been waiting for them, came over and picked up their luggage.

“Mistress.”

Only then did Louisa lower her gaze.

In a soft, subdued voice, she said,

“I’m sorry, Johnson. Let’s go quickly.”

With a face as heavy as lead, Louisa straightened her back and lifted her feet from the ground, stepping forward.

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They were greeted at the mansion by Mrs. Johnson, the housekeeper. As she took their luggage, she asked,

“Did you have a good trip, Mistress?”

“Thanks to you, it was wonderful. The scenery was breathtaking enough to make the long journey worthwhile.”

“I’d heard it was a truly lovely place—so I’m glad you enjoyed it as well.”

Mrs. Johnson smiled warmly in agreement. Seizing the moment, Rachel chimed in,

“You’d surely be amazed too if you went there yourself! I’ve never seen so many autumn leaves before!”

“And the sky was so clear. It’s quite a rare sight here.”

“Exactly! How could the sky possibly be so blue?”

Encouraged by Rachel’s enthusiasm, Mrs. Johnson spoke up in a gentle tone,

“Hearing all this makes me want to visit there myself someday.”

Then, quite naturally, she glanced toward her husband, Paul Johnson. Following her gaze, the eyes of the three women turned toward him, prompting Paul Johnson to chuckle softly and say,

“We really ought to go there together on our next holiday.”

Their eyes met unexpectedly, and all of them broke into soft laughter.

They were all such kind people—it was only a pity they were all servants employed by the Allen household.

Amid the shared laughter, Louisa tried hard to suppress the bitterness threatening to surface on her smile.

Getting over him meant letting go of so much.

Her name, her habits, her memories… There were too many to count—so many that she feared she might vanish entirely.

She also felt regret.

Had loving him so earnestly and so deeply ultimately consumed her?

If only she’d given him a little less of her heart, perhaps she wouldn’t have minded if he didn’t love her back.

‘Would we have been happy then?’

Louisa thought about it briefly, then quickly erased the question from her mind.

It was precisely because that had been impossible that she had become who she was now.

She had loved him so very much—so much that the light within her had faded from exhaustion.

Repeatedly hoping and then crumbling would only devour them both.

Louisa took a deep breath and expanded her chest.

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As evening fell, a black automobile entered through the main gate of the Allen mansion.

As was usually the case, Paul Johnson was the first to notice the sound.

“It seems the master has arrived.”

“He’s been coming home earlier lately. Oh—Mistress, are you finishing your meal already?”

“I’m sorry. You went to such lengths today, especially since it’s my return.”

Louisa replied with a glance toward Paul Johnson, who was heading out to greet Edward.

“Don’t say that. Truthfully, I was a bit worried the menu might have been too heavy for you when you’re tired. Next time, I’ll prepare something lighter.”

“Thank you for your thoughtfulness.”

As Mrs. Johnson approached to clear the tableware, Louisa rose from her seat.

Just then, the front door opened. It was Edward.

He and Louisa, who had just finished her meal and was on her way out, met in the hallway.

Edward looked as neat as ever.

At the sight of him, a wave of sorrow surged within Louisa. His world seemed so undisturbed by her absence—it felt as though she barely mattered at all.

‘I suppose I still have some lingering attachment.’

Finding herself ridiculous, Louisa gave a faint, wry smile and greeted him.

“You’re back? You must’ve worked hard today.”

“Oh, yeah.”

Edward tugged at his shirt collar as if it felt tight and said,

“Was the trip okay?”

“It was beautiful. It brought back old memories and was quite lovely.”

“I see. That’s good.”

He answered absently, his eyes fixed on a corner of the room. His furrowed brow suggested he was likely preoccupied with matters left behind at the lab.

Poor man.

Just because there were unresolved matters didn’t mean they had to be addressed today. Louisa decided to postpone their conversation.

“Well then, enjoy your meal and rest for now.”

“What about you?”

“I was just finishing up and heading out.”

“Oh, I see.”

“I’ll go up ahead.”

Leaving a light farewell, Louisa turned toward the stairs to the second floor. But Edward’s voice, unexpectedly soft, reached out and held her back.

“How… are you feeling?”

It was an unexpected question. Louisa turned and asked in return,

“My feelings?”

“Yes. How are you doing?”

Louisa fell silent for a moment. Her husband was clearly not himself. She let out a quiet sigh and said,

“Ed. You don’t have to do that.”

“Do what?”

“It’s fine—you don’t need to keep watching my mood so carefully.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Ed.”

Helpless, she called his name softly. Edward avoided her steady gaze.

“…Really, it’s not.”

But his words lacked conviction. Louisa’s furrowed brow showed no sign of easing, and seeing that, Edward’s expression hardened.

Louisa spoke slowly, in a tone one might use with young children.

“What I mean is—it’s perfectly fine for you to just rest if you’re busy or tired.”

“But I told you, it’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“What else? I was just curious how your trip went and worried something might’ve happened… so I asked.”

He glanced at her briefly, then quickly looked away when their eyes met, adding one more thing quietly.

“I never got your reply.”

“Oh.”

Louisa finally understood and let out a small sound of realization.

“So… it was something that needed a response.”

“Well, of course.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you’d actually care about that.”

“What are you talking about? If I hadn’t cared, I wouldn’t have sent it in the first place.”

Hearing his reply, Louisa’s expression turned strange. Edward’s heart gave another lurch as he asked,

“What?”

“It’s nothing. I’m just surprised you’re the kind of person who’d do something like that.”

“Well, of course. Just what kind of person did you think I was?”

Edward gave a hollow laugh in response.

Louisa only smiled faintly, her face weary.

Should she feel comforted that he still kept her in mind—or saddened by the fact that, despite knowing this, he’d never treated her that way?

“I had a perfectly wonderful trip, thanks to you. Thank you. My mood isn’t bad at all, so please don’t worry about me.”

It was an uncharacteristically evasive reply. Edward stared at her, bewildered, as she deftly sidestepped answering his question.

Meeting his gaze with tightly closed lips for a moment, Louisa soon turned away and left.

Edward watched her back as she climbed the stairs, then slowly made his way toward the dining room.