To Those For Whom Even Regret Is A Luxury (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 1

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That day was the day my world shattered.

“Excuse me, madam.”

The nightmare began the moment butler Wilhelm approached me with a grim expression.

His unusually dark demeanor that day made me tilt my head in confusion.

“What’s the matter?”

“There’s… a place you need to check.”

“Check?”

“Yes… We heard strange noises coming from the west terrace.”

Strange noises?

Curious, I followed the butler.

Once he led me to the west terrace, the butler bowed politely and stepped back—clearly indicating I should verify it myself.

‘What on earth could it be?’

Frowning in puzzlement, I slowly opened the door to the room connected to the west terrace.

…and instantly stopped breathing.

“Huh… haaah…”

There, pitifully sobbing, was my half-sister Elena.

And…

“Shh, shh.”

Comforting her in his arms with gentle pats was my husband, Lucas.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take full responsibility—for you and our child.”

Child.

‘Our’ child?

Each letter of that word sounded foreign, as if it had been disassembled and reassembled.

Though five years had passed since our marriage, there had been no child between my husband and me.

“My son was born perfectly healthy! It’s clearly your fault!”

Because of that fact alone, I was treated as a useless burden in the marquisate—a woman who couldn’t fulfill her duty, a disgrace.

Despite knowing this all too well, Lucas never offered comfort; instead, he loathed even the word “child.”

“I’m not some stud horse! Every day it’s ‘child, child’! Damn it, I’m sick of it!”

“…Darling.”

“That’s exactly why I hate stepping into this damn house! If you’d just kept Mother happy from the start, we wouldn’t be tormented daily over this damn child issue!”

Yet now, Lucas whispered those very words he once despised—with honey dripping from his voice.

“Only blessings will lie ahead for our child. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Oh, Lucas!”

Elena melted into her husband’s arms.

“I’m not even married yet, and I’m already with child! My life is over, huuuh!”

“Be good, Elena. Listen to me, alright? We’ll get through this together. Everything will be fine. Shh…”

“Lucas…!”

Their lips met.

A wet, embarrassingly vivid sound echoed blatantly.

My husband’s hands groped Elena’s slender waist, hiking up her dress.

Elena clung to him, clearly accustomed to his brazen touch.

The scene was far too vivid to be a dream—and far too cruel.

“Oh, Lucas…”

“Hoo…”

To me, every sound in the world had once been a raw gemstone, capable of being crafted into beautiful melodies.

I firmly believed there was no sound in this world too worthless or unpleasant to be transformed into something beautiful.

That was true—until now.

‘Stop.’

With trembling hands, I clapped them over my ears.

For the first time, I was afraid of sound.

Trending

I simply couldn’t believe that those damp, primal moans were coming from my husband and my younger sister.

Clang!

My stumbling foot struck the metal doorframe, creating a loud noise.

“Kyaaah! Who’s there— Oh, sister?”

Elena’s eyes, already red from crying, widened as they locked onto me—the perfect climax of a melodrama.

The cheap climax of a tawdry one-act play filled with clichés.

I became a faithful cast member of that stage, stumbling backward ridiculously.

“…Damn it, Ariana!”

Lucas’s eyes twisted menacingly as he turned to me.

“The door was definitely locked!”

At his furious shout, I found myself stupidly stammering without even realizing it.

“I… thought I heard strange noises…”

“Damn it! Since when were you spying?! You’re not even a rat! Bloody hell!”

Lucas’s outrage, as if he were the victim, felt unreal, wavering before my eyes.

Lucas had been a kind husband.

Even when I used to sit alone in my room, tapping aimlessly at piano keys, he’d approach me and be the first to say my compositions were beautiful.

Overjoyed by his words, I showed him all the sheet music I’d scribbled over the years.

“These are truly beautiful pieces, Ariana. It’d be a shame to keep them to myself. How about holding a performance?”

Lucas readily promised to fund the concert.

My brother Edward, a graduate of the Royal Academy of Arts, arranged my pieces, and my sister Elena sang.

The debut recital was modest—only a handful of people who remembered the old glory of the Lopez musical family attended, wearing indifferent expressions.

But after the final note, every single one of them rose to their feet in applause.

“It’s as if the late Count Lopez has returned to life!”

“These pieces are truly beautiful and original! They say talent skips generations—and clearly, Count Edward Lopez has inherited the late count’s gift!”

Naturally, everyone praised Edward.

“Society’s still too narrow-minded to credit a woman’s artistry for now. Let’s keep releasing your pieces under Edward’s name for a while. Is that alright?”

Every day, people raved about how beautiful Edward’s compositions were and how angelic Elena’s voice sounded.

My name was nowhere to be found—but I didn’t mind.

I was happy. My husband’s opera house, built on the success of my music, was flourishing.

“Another sold-out show today! Ariana, this is all thanks to you!”

Every day, my husband whispered how much happier he’d become thanks to the music I created.

Above all, the name “Lopez, the musical house,” which my grandfather had built his entire life for, was once again on everyone’s lips.

But those dreamlike days didn’t last long.

“We need more pieces! Ariana, why does your inspiration only come so sporadically?”

Disappointed by my slow pace, my husband hired additional composers.

Soon, he began churning out songs that sounded factory-made—pieces strikingly similar to mine, nearly indistinguishable copies—but the public adored them all the same.

Perhaps that was when it started.

When my husband began coming home later and later, his gaze toward me tinged with irritation.

“What do you mean, ‘Why so late?’ A man’s business sometimes runs late, that’s all!”

“Our opera singers know how to be sweet and charming… but you? Even when your husband comes home, you’re so stiff! How can sisters be so different? Honestly…”

“Your pieces are needlessly experimental. Maybe it’s because you never formally studied composition? Lack of proper education always shows, doesn’t it? Tsk.”

I thought that if I wrote more beautiful, more commercially successful pieces, my husband would hold me tenderly again.

It was true I’d never formally studied composition, so I studied harder and worked harder—staying up every night, sacrificing sleep.

While I did that, you…

‘Were you playing around with my younger sister?’

This must be a dream.

I squeezed my eyes shut. If it was a dream, I needed to wake up.

Staggering out of the room, I heard shouting from behind.

“Where do you think you’re going?! Get back here right now?!”

“Lucas, stop! I’ll go after her. Sister, sister!”

ads

Elena chased me down the dim corridor and finally grabbed my shoulder.

“Sister, please listen to me. You’re misunderstanding everything!”

Misunderstanding?

They say when shock is too overwhelming, your mind goes blank.

Dazed, I turned to look at Elena, who hurriedly continued.

“It’s absolutely not like that with Brother-in-law… Alright, I’ll be honest. It was just a one-night mistake!”

“…A mistake?”

“We’d both drunk far too much that night. I tried pushing him away several times, knowing it was wrong—but he kept saying it felt so good, unlike with you…”

A pitiful excuse poured from my younger sister’s lips.

“I really should’ve fought harder—I’m so sorry. I’d even pretend to die if you asked! Sister, but… but…”

Elena’s doe-like eyes filled with tears.

“I’m pregnant with Brother-in-law’s child… from that one night.”

Keeek, kee-keek.

It felt as if a thousand mad violinists were sawing away inside my skull.

Overwhelmed by dreadful unreality, I gasped softly. This had to be nothing but a nightmare.

There was no way my husband and my younger sister could both betray me like this—it simply couldn’t be real.

Then Elena suddenly seized my hand.

“Sister… please, help me survive.”

She hung her eyebrows pitifully.

Just like when she’d secretly worn Mother’s heirloom necklace, lost it while out playing, and came begging for help.

Just like when she’d spilled wine all over sheet music I’d worked on for months.

And now, with that same expression…

“Could you… pretend the child in my womb is yours?”

She delivered the final, crushing blow.

“…What did you say?”

“I… I can’t raise this child! I’m the rising star of the opera right now, right? Who ever heard of a star with a child dragging her down? If I fall, it’s over—for me, for our whole family. You know that, don’t you!”

The rising star of the opera.

Elena spoke the truth—she was currently the most celebrated singer in the capital.

Newspapers compared her voice to a siren luring sailors to their doom. Men, enchanted by her angelic voice and beauty, showered her daily with bouquets and jewels.

‘But, Elena…’

It was I who stayed up countless nights composing songs so your voice could bloom in its most beautiful form.

“Besides, this isn’t bad news for you either! Sister, you’ve suffered for years with no child between you and Brother-in-law, right? Just take my child. Then the Pedegrin household will have an heir, and you won’t have to live under the shame of being called barren anymore, okay?”

Elena sobbed piteously like a puppy caught in the rain.

Twisting her pretty face into such sorrow—as if nothing she did could ever be unforgivable.

Dully, my mind creaked in confusion.

‘You want me to raise the child you conceived through an affair with my own husband?’

It was an utterly absurd request.

A thoroughly selfish plea, concerned only with Elena’s own well-being.

There was only one reason Elena could dare make such a shameless demand.

“…Since when, Elena?”

I numbly moved my lips.

“Since when did I become a fool in your eyes—instead of family?”

I’d worried she was naive and willful, but Elena had always been family to me.

‘But not to you.’

To you, I was just… an idiot, a simpleton, a fool.

Someone you thought you could easily manipulate with a few sweet words.

“Sister… what are you talking about? I already explained! It was just a one-night mistake!”

“…Enough, Elena.”

I shook my head. Betrayal shook my entire body until I trembled.

If anyone touched me right now, I feared I’d shatter into pieces beyond recognition.

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“I know you’re confused and hurt. I’m truly sorry—I’ll atone for this my whole life! But surely you won’t refuse my request? My whole life is at stake! If I’m ruined, you’ll— Sister! Where are you going, Sister!”

I turned abruptly and strode quickly down the dark corridor.

I needed to vomit—that bile rising in my throat had to come out somewhere.

“Ariana! You were home?”

But someone suddenly appeared, blocking my path once again.

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