Acidity of Regret Ch 92
- Feb 10
- 6 min read
She didn't look away.
His face paled to the color of parchment, drained of all vitality. Shock and despair radiated from him—the crushing weight of a prisoner receiving a final death sentence. He stood motionless, his eyelids and fingertips frozen, breath trapped in his lungs.
The sight left her feeling hollow.
She had repeated these same words for an eternity. In the past, and now in the present. His sudden shock only proved how much his own heart had changed.
She pushed aside the stray thoughts and anchored her resolve.
[Vanessa] "I want to be happy now."
To achieve that, she had to bid him an eternal farewell. Happiness remained an impossibility as long as she stayed tethered to the man who defined her misery.
During her month in this coastal sanctuary, she had buried the memories of her past life. She watched the steady line of the horizon and interred those horrors deep within her heart.
She refused to spend another moment shackled to anxiety or shivering in the shadow of what had been.
To move forward, she had to discard this relic of the past. The time had come.
[Declan] "That......"
He finally forced his lips open, his entire nervous system appearing to scream under the tension.
[Declan] "How am I...... what meaning am I supposed to take from that?"
[Vanessa] "Take it literally."
[Declan] "......"
[Vanessa] "I hope we never cross paths again, even by chance."
His hand twitched toward his chest. His heart had surely plummeted to the floor long ago, yet a fresh sensation of falling clawed at his insides.
Was it the physical wound?
The jagged wound seemed to fester and rot, sending a black, throbbing ache deep into the center of his chest. It felt like someone was grinding a heel into a fresh, purple bruise. It was a strange agony; the pain he hadn't noticed during his frantic journey now saturated his every nerve.
[Declan] "I have only one answer."
[Vanessa] "......"
[Declan] "Do you think such a thing is even possible?"
[Vanessa] "......"
[Declan] "I ran here like a madman just to confirm you were safe. Do you think I am capable...... of living without seeing you?"
His voice trailed off into a low, self-deprecating crawl.
It wasn't a demand; it was a pathetic, raw plea. He was a man who struggled to express his emotions, and this was his way of begging. He was imploring her to realize that he couldn't survive the vacuum of her absence.
Her eyes remained frigid. Her gaze held a sharp, icy light that brooked no reconsideration.
[Vanessa] "I didn't bring this up to ask for your opinion."
[Declan] "......"
[Vanessa] "What did you expect to hear, coming here in that state? Looking like that?"
[Declan] "......"
[Vanessa] "You knew you wouldn't receive a warm welcome."
[Declan] "At the very least......"
[Vanessa] "......"
[Declan] "At the very least, I didn't expect a final goodbye."
His voice sounded muffled, as if he spoke from underwater. He looked as though he might break into tears at any moment. The sight of the Great Grand Duke on the verge of weeping still felt surreal.
She shook her head to clear the distracting thoughts.
[Vanessa] "Don't pretend this is sudden."
[Declan] "......"
[Vanessa] "I have never ceased bidding you goodbye. Not for a single moment."
[Declan] "I love you."
His old, stubborn habits resurfaced—the vice of refusing to listen, of forcing his own will.
But the method of his obsession had shifted. He no longer grabbed her wrists or forced a kiss; instead, he tried to bind her with the weight of his genuine confession.
[Vanessa] "I do not love you."
[Declan] "......I was wrong. I made a mistake."
[Vanessa] "You already admitted that it's too late."
Her calm, detached demeanor terrified him. If she were emotional, he might have found a crack to wedge himself into. But she stood on solid ground, an expansive territory that a small, broken man like him couldn't hope to shake.
He wanted to kill the villain who had turned her this cruel, but that villain was himself. He had no one else to blame.
His gaze fell to the table. Two teacups sat between them—a reflection of their hearts. He was full to the brim, overflowing with unspent emotion. Hers was empty. Not a single drop remained. It mirrored her hollow eyes and her stubborn, final words.
The thought of never seeing her again felt like an abyss.
To be honest, a sliver of hope had driven him here. The news of her canceled wedding had planted a seed of expectation in his chest.
I only came to see if she was healthy.
Even he couldn't swallow such a flimsy lie. He had sprinted here like a fool on the strength of a single signal—the hope that she had chosen not to become another man's wife.
He had risked his life, dragging his half-dead body across the Empire for that hope.
But reality was a cold blade. He didn't find forgiveness; he found a severance.
He hadn't expected his suicide attempt on the battlefield to earn him redemption, but he hadn't realized he would lose even the right to beg for it. She wouldn't even grant him the mercy of a chance encounter.
She had no intention of ever forgiving him.
His breath hitched. The tightness in his chest became unbearable. Yet, he couldn't throw a tantrum or rage as he once had. He understood too much now.
The more he dwelt on the past, the more he realized he was a sinner with no defense. Every action he had ever taken was a stain.
If Vanessa stabbed him through the heart today, he would have no right to complain. Above all, he could no longer be the source of her pain.
[Vanessa] When I am with you......'
Her words, the ones that had shredded his heart, remained etched in his mind.
She watched the frozen man for a moment before slowly standing up.
This conversation had reached its limit.
[Declan] "......Is it still the same?"
She stopped at the doorway. Usually, she wouldn't have paused, but the precariousness in his voice—as if he were about to drop into a bottomless pit—caught her.
[Declan] "When you are with me...... do you still feel that way?"
She stared at the delicate carvings on the door.
That feeling.
The answer required no deliberation.
[Vanessa] "Yes."
When I am with you, I always want to die.
That fragile truth, dragged out of her only when she had been pushed to the edge of a cliff, pierced his heart again. It was a recurring horror that haunted him every moment.
[Declan] "......I see. Fine, then."
His voice finally plummeted into the depths. Vanessa had no intention of pulling him out.
She turned her head to look at him one last time, but their eyes didn't meet.
He had covered his face with his large hand.
[Declan] "I will do as you say."
She told him not to come back, and he agreed. It was a clean, surgical dialogue. The stagnant, tangled emotions beneath the surface didn't matter; the exchange itself was flawless.
She watched him for a few seconds, then turned her back without hesitation.
She stepped into the hallway and met Dina’s anxious gaze.
[Dina] "My Lady......! Are you alright?"
Dina, who had been even more shocked than Vanessa by the Grand Duke’s arrival, fussed over her mistress’s complexion.
Vanessa offered a thin smile to soothe her.
[Vanessa] "He will be leaving soon. See him out, Dina."
[Dina] "Yes, My Lady."
Vanessa started toward her bedroom but stopped, catching Dina’s arm as the maid reached for the drawing-room handle.
[Dina] "My Lady?"
She hesitated, her lips trembling slightly before she spoke.
[Vanessa] "Ten minutes......"
[Dina] "Pardon?"
[Vanessa] "Wait ten minutes before you go in."
A self-mocking thought crossed her mind—why am I doing this?—but the image of him covering his eyes wouldn't leave her.
She suspected the palms of his hands were currently drenched in uncontrollable moisture.
She had no reason to show him any kindness. He had made her life a misery. Yet, the subconscious impulse to show a final mercy was a terrifying thing.
Since I’ll never see him again, what is the harm in one last gesture of pity?
[Dina] "Yes, I understand."
Dina looked confused but nodded.
Vanessa turned away, finally feeling as though her task was complete.
A neutral breeze drifted through the hallway window. Beyond the glass, the blue sea stretched toward infinity.
Like the flow of those gentle ripples, the farewell had arrived—quiet and inevitable.
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