Thus Began Your Regret (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 9

Dining alone in the spacious dining room was unbearably quiet.

Edward put down his fork after a few bites, his appetite lost in thought.

As he stared blankly at the untouched food, Paul, standing behind him, gently spoke up.

“My lady probably didn’t deliberately ignore your letter. Please don’t lose heart.”

At the sound of his voice, Edward’s shoulders, tense with anxiety, twitched. But he soon replied in a weary tone.

“Did you hear? She’s asking whether I was even the kind of man who’d worry about something like that?”

Edward slumped back against the chair.

“What possible reason could justify treating me this way? For whose sake have I even been living…?”

He buried his face in his hands. Paul looked at him with pity.

“My lady didn’t say that because she was unaware. She simply wasn’t accustomed to it yet.”

“To what? Exactly what?”

Ahem. Ahem. Instead of answering the question, Paul Johnson merely cleared his throat a few times. Edward shot back irritably.

“You aren’t going to say the same thing, are you? That I’m the sort of person who’d even care about such things?”

Edward’s eyes narrowed sharply. Paul, meeting that piercing gaze, simply raised an eyebrow—silent, yet affirming.

“Don’t jest, Paul.”

Edward recalled that night when everything had gone wrong.

Why had he even driven home at dawn in the first place? She should’ve just gone inside comfortably, slept soundly without worrying about him, instead of standing outside making a fuss that only made him anxious.

Why wouldn’t she ever listen to a word he said?

He felt resentful yet strangely hurt by his wife, who never seemed to consider easing his worries.

“…Don’t you realize how much I worry about you?”

“My lord.”

“Even if I grant you every point you’ve made—still, isn’t that reaction excessive? We’re husband and wife. Wouldn’t it be natural to feel a little curious, or even concerned?”

“My lord.”

“You always said that yourself, so how could you—”

How could you, when you always used to be just like that.

Edward’s muttering suddenly stopped.

A chill swept through his chest. His own words now pierced him with an icy clarity.

“Always used to say that.”

Words Louisa always used to say.

He remembered them all too vividly.

“I was worried because it was so late, uncertain if you were alright, anxious about whether something might have happened.”

He couldn’t forget. He’d heard those exact words just days ago.

Edward fidgeted helplessly, lifting and lowering his hands as he murmured,

“I… I was…”

He’d always been so focused on the problems themselves, angry at his wife for never listening to him.

Somewhere in that endless cycle, he’d forgotten one crucial truth.

What he’d assumed was the same was, in fact, a series of entirely different moments and circumstances.

How many times had you poured those feelings into such words?

How many times had you asked, hoping for an answer that never came, only to let that sorrow drift uselessly into the air?

‘Just how hard must it have been for you, too? Were you also like this…?’

Did it hurt?

Edward rose from his seat.

His throat tightened; he could no longer eat.

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Edward, who usually skipped breakfast and left the house before dawn, was unusually seated in the dining room right on time today.

“…This is serious.”

Seeing his reflection in the glass, Edward scowled deeply.

His eyes, swollen from hours of tear-filled brooding, now boasted an unmistakable puffiness.

At a time when he should’ve showcased his best looks, even the cool, sharp eyes his wife adored had been ruined. He was thoroughly disgruntled.

He heard someone coming downstairs. Edward quickly set down the cold glass he’d been pressing against his eyes with both hands.

“Ed?”

Louisa, coming down for breakfast, called out to him in a small, surprised voice. She glanced between the two water glasses placed before him and Edward himself, then asked,

“You’re not heading to work today?”

“I can be a bit late for now.”

Since his own wishes would soon become Jeffrey’s, he probably could afford to be late. Likely.

He awkwardly cleared his throat, looked away, and quietly removed one of the water glasses from before him.

Louisa sat down and said,

“That’s good. At least you can rest a little.”

“Well… yes.”

“But it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you actually eat breakfast.”

“I just thought maybe eating breakfast isn’t such a bad idea.”

“I see. As long as it doesn’t upset your stomach, it’s a good choice.”

Louisa spoke with a hint of dry sarcasm.

Edward had always refused breakfast, claiming it felt too heavy.

After glancing at Louisa, he finally broke the silence.

“Remember that thing you were worried about last time? Ah, you know—the fire incident at our institute.”

Edward, speaking without thinking, quickly added another sentence as he realized his mistake. His wife had worried about far more than just one thing.

“Oh. That matter.”

“Yeah. It’s all been resolved well. There were a few inquiries here and there, but nothing serious arose, so you don’t need to worry.”

“I see. That’s a relief.”

Louisa nodded quietly. Edward waited a moment for her to say more.

But unable to bear the lengthening silence, he soon spoke again.

“I’ll probably be home early today.”

“I see. Understood.”

“Still, just in case I’m late… I’ll let you know.”

Louisa, who usually responded promptly to other remarks, fell silent.

After a pause, she moved her hand—which had hung suspended in the air—and said,

“Alright. I understand.”

“If you’re really worried about me being late, just wake Paul and send him.”

“How can you disturb someone who’s resting?”

“If it’s that important, I’ll be the one to take extra care of you—so just do it whenever needed.”

At this, Louisa sighed. Catching her gaze fixed quietly on him, Edward cleared his throat awkwardly.

Louisa continued eating in silence, moving only her fork. Edward kept watching her expression carefully—until their eyes finally met, and Louisa quietly spoke.

“Ed.”

“…”

“As I said yesterday, you really don’t need to act like this now.”

“It’s not like that.”

“I’m just like you. I wish you weren’t suffering. Seeing you, who’s been steady for years, suddenly act this way… it’s hard for me, too.”

“It really isn’t.”

His expression twisted sharply.

“It’s not hard. I’m doing this because I want to… that’s all.”

Edward forced a smile, lifting the corners of his mouth. Louisa blinked rapidly and turned her gaze aside.

“Is there anything else you’d like to hear?”

“It’s fine.”

“You used to… always ask for more.”

“That’s all in the past now. Right now, truly, there’s nothing.”

At her words, Edward’s heart sank heavily.

This wasn’t good. Her having no curiosity—despite always being full of questions—meant nothing less than her losing interest in him entirely.

Had his realization come too late?

No. Such thoughts were meaningless. He would do his utmost to solve the problem before him, as he always had.

Clenching his fists, he calmly said,

“By the way, didn’t you say you’d visit Ernest’s facility today?”

“That’s right. I’ll be back sometime in the evening.”

“I see. Be careful.”

Louisa stared at Edward in surprise at his parting words.

[You’re going again today? What for? Babysitting the children?] […If such tasks are needed, I’ll handle them too.] [Please, Louisa. Where have you ever seen a noble personally do such chores? Why do you keep creating scandals?] [That’s hardly worth worrying about. It’s far worse to let such concerns prevent you from doing what must be done.] [Louisa.]

In her mind passed the image of her usual husband.

The man before her these past two days was unmistakably different—startlingly so.

Yet it was precisely this change that revealed the truth: his transformation was fueled by remorse and guilt.

Their relationship had been one of mutual exhaustion. Finding love and happiness at this end would not be easy.

Louisa finished her meal first and rose from her seat. She had decided to finally voice the words she’d postponed the day before.

“It’ll take a little time to prepare the divorce papers. I can’t manage it today due to prior commitments, but I’ll have them ready soon—please keep that in mind.”

Edward, who seemed ready to agree to anything she said, abruptly closed his mouth.

After watching him for a moment, Louisa turned and left the dining room.

Edward sat motionless, staring at the door through which she’d departed.

Sunlight now filled the house instead of gaslight. His wife had already walked away, leaving him alone with his breakfast.

Ironically, in his own home, nothing felt familiar to him anymore.

[This is the timeline separator]

Louisa made a simple preparation and stepped outside.

She regularly volunteered at the childcare facility run by the Ernest family.

She’d been doing this consistently since her days in Greenberg, and even after moving to the capital, she continued volunteering at the same foundation’s facility.

Of course, Edward had never been particularly fond of her going there—but that was only because he disliked her willingness to handle menial tasks, not because he’d ever stopped her from visiting.

Louisa believed this was likely because he understood the plight of the children here.

Karen Ernest, the eldest daughter of the Ernest family, greeted her warmly.

“Oh! Louisa! Come in!”

“Karen. Have you been well?”

“Of course I have.”

She approached Louisa and gave her a light hug.

“You’ve lost a bit of weight since last time. You seem even more delicate now.”

“Is that so? I must’ve walked around too much. I just returned from Quenel.”

“Oh, that’s lovely. I went there last year—the scenery this time of year is truly beautiful.”

She gently lifted the corner of Louisa’s mouth with her fingertips and added,

“It would’ve been the perfect trip if you’d carried a smile with you, too.”

Louisa lightly touched the awkwardly upturned corner of her own lips. Karen smiled gently at her and said,

“You look troubled. How about this? Nothing beats this when you’re feeling that way.”

She shook the blanket she was holding.