Acidity of Regret Ch 96
- Feb 16
- 6 min read
Declan devoured the sight of her lovely face while her gaze lingered on his mangled hand.
God had always proved heartless toward a man who traded only in sins. Surely, this brief moment of bliss came with a hidden price—some cruel trial yet to be unleashed.
To prepare for the coming storm, he etched every detail of her appearance into his mind.
He didn't just look; he burned her image into his skull, pressing the memory deep into his heart.
A primal urge to seize her hand, to pull her close and taste her lips, surged within him. A dark, crimson desire boiled more fiercely than it ever had while he watched her from behind a window. Her proximity acted as a constant, agonizing provocation.
Yet, he knew exactly what such impulses cost him. He forced himself to endure.
Days of sleeplessness clouded his mind. The skin on the back of his neck throbbed from his nightly self-mutilation, and his bandaged hand hummed with a sharp, rhythmic pain. Strangely, he felt better in this moment than he had in years.
Pain faded in her presence. Perhaps the joy of sharing a space with her acted as an anesthetic, or perhaps the sheer tension of the reunion eclipsed his physical suffering.
He would be lying if he said he hadn't dreamed of this meeting while lurking in the shadows. He had envisioned a grand, cinematic scene—something impressive enough to thaw her frozen heart.
......Damn it.
Reality rarely cooperated. He hadn't prepared his heart for this. He never imagined she would witness him in such a pathetic state, fragile and needing medical care. If he could turn back time, he would have done so a hundred times over to avoid this humiliation.
[Vanessa] "What brings you here?"
Her lips moved, and for a second, he thought he heard a phantom. He hadn't expected her to initiate a conversation during their allotted five minutes.
The tension that had been clawing at his chest spiked, reaching the crown of his head. His heart hammered against his ribs. He chose his words with the precision of a man walking a tightrope.
[Declan] "......I had some business nearby."
He loathed lying to her. However, even if someone threatened to tear his tongue out, he couldn't admit he had purchased a villa three years ago to stalk her daily.
That truth would give her more than enough reason to loathe him. Desperation to avoid further hatred moved his tongue for him.
[Vanessa] "Then you’ll be leaving soon."
Her assumption—that he would vanish immediately—wounded him more than the fracture. It sounded like an order to hurry up and disappear from her sight.
But he couldn't afford to sink into self-pity. He steadied his flickering consciousness.
Now that she had opened the door to conversation, he wanted to ask her something—anything. He craved the mundane exchanges they once shared without a second thought. He hungered for the peace he had personally shattered.
Every time this longing struck, regret welled up like a festering wound, soaking his mind with the image of his past, foolish self.
Before he could speak again, the clinic door swung open.
[Dina] "My Lady!"
Dina burst through the crowd, having successfully refunded the hair ornaments.
Vanessa stood, tucking the pocket watch back into her dress. The maid’s arrival signaled the end of Declan’s precious time.
He guessed why the maid had returned the items: Vanessa intended to pay for his treatment. She wanted to settle the debt immediately, leaving him no excuse to contact her again.
As if her previous mercy had never existed, Vanessa turned to leave. Reflexively, he reached out. His desperation outpaced his common sense.
[Declan] "I’ll take you back."
The hesitant, stuttering man from moments ago vanished, replaced by a voice rasping with raw hunger.
Vanessa looked at his face, then at the heavy white bandages on his hand. She didn't say a word, but her disbelief was palpable: With that hand?
[Declan] "......My knights are here. They can escort you."
[Vanessa] "No, thank you."
Her sharp rejection pierced his chest like a dagger.
He wondered why it still hurt. He should have grown accustomed to her coldness over the last three years. Yet, his heart crumbled anew. Perhaps his suffering still didn't equate to a fraction of the agony he had caused her.
He had no further excuse to hold her. She had already granted him five minutes; asking for more felt like a transgression. His injury served as the price for that small window of time, and nothing more.
An invisible, insurmountable line divided them. She alone held the power to decide if that line would ever be crossed.
Even knowing this, his lips betrayed his will.
[Declan] "......Vanessa."
Vanessa, who was heading toward the door after paying the bill, paused and turned.
Her beautiful emerald eyes held nothing for him—no anger, no love—only the stillness of a woman who had already finished her mourning. The sight of that hollow gaze made him swallow hard against the lump in his throat.
[Vanessa] "If any complications arise later, send word to the Evarn estate."
[Declan] "......"
[Vanessa] "I will find a way to cover any additional medical expenses."
She still possessed the power to unbalance him with the simplest words.
He stared at her, unable to voice any of the sentences crowding his throat.
She met his blue eyes calmly.
They had lost their former luster, but they remained a striking sapphire. The sharp, glass-like edge he once possessed still flickered there, but it no longer felt threatening. It seemed blunt, fragile, and weak. The old fear she felt in his presence had evaporated.
That didn't mean she felt comfortable. Their relationship was built on layers of indescribable, suffocating emotions. Their past was a pile of ash, yet the soot still managed to cloud her mind.
[Vanessa] "Travel safely back to the Duchy."
She ended the encounter there. She refused to wonder what kind of look he gave her back as she walked away.
She had fulfilled her obligations. She brought him to the clinic, paid for the physician, and even offered to handle future costs.
She knew he wanted something else entirely.
But for a man she had buried in her past, this was the absolute limit of her tolerance.
[Dina] "My Lady, are you sure you’re alright?"
[Vanessa] "Yes, I told you I am."
Back in the safety of her bedroom, she let Dina help her out of her robe. The maid’s face remained pinched with worry.
[Dina] "I’m so sorry. I should have held onto you tighter."
Vanessa understood Dina’s guilt. The maid believed that if she hadn't let go during the chaos, they might have avoided Declan entirely.
[Vanessa] "Don't blame yourself. It was an accident. It happened in a flash."
[Dina] "Still......"
An accident.
That was all this reunion was—an unexpected collision in the dark.
[Dina] "Do you think it was actually a coincidence?"
[Vanessa] "I'm not sure."
Like Dina, Vanessa didn't fully trust his explanation. Why would a man from the Duchy visit this tiny, remote estate? If he had a purpose here, it had to be her.
However, she had remained calm at the clinic because she had been preparing for this moment for three years.
She knew his obsessive nature better than anyone. On the day she ended things, she expected him to reappear within days, fueled by his usual shameless persistence. He had always treated her words like suggestions rather than commands.
Yet, for three years, he had vanished. Her preparation had faded, though the core of it remained.
In those three years, her life had regained its tranquility because he wasn't in it. Since her regression, she had lived under the crushing weight of having to protect everything and fight everyone. Dropping that burden had brought her an unimaginable peace.
The chronic chest pains that once burned within her had largely subsided. Though she still took her medicine once a week as a precaution, it was a massive improvement over the thrice-daily doses she required three years ago.
[Vanessa] "Even if it wasn't a coincidence, what can he do?"
She had already defined him as a stranger outside the boundaries of her life.
The love she once offered him with all her soul was now a grave in a leveled field. As long as that headstone remained, their orbits would never overlap again. They might brush past each other like they did today, but they would never become one.
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