Chapter 42: The Woman Who Sees His Secret (5)
"It's okay."
That one phrase cut through my heart like a dagger, more painful and sharp than anything else, stabbing into my chest.
I hated the sight of Ricardo, smiling as if nothing was wrong, holding my hand firmly.
Sharp questions rose to the tip of my tongue—aren't you mad at me? You, an unrelated person, went through such horrible pain because of me, aren't you filled with resentment toward me?
I clenched my teeth and spoke to Ricardo.
"What's… ‘okay'?"
It was a question fueled by resentment. Why put on the pretense that it's okay when it clearly wasn't? That's what I wanted to know.
I gripped Ricardo's hand tightly—so tight my hand trembled. I was angry and I hated the lying Ricardo. I wanted him to understand that I was sincere.
"What do you mean it's okay?"
It wasn't disdain or resentment, but Ricardo looked at me with sadness, as if to say he was sorry. I wished he would say something, anything.
It would have been easier if he had scolded me then and there.
Call me a bad woman.
Say that my body was ruined because of you.
Don't just keep silent, yell at me if you have to. Then maybe I would feel better.
‘It's okay,' he says.
Ricardo's words echoed in my head like an echo.
I asked Ricardo, hoping for a candid response. I hoped even the kindest of you, the you that always looks after me, could not harbor any hatred towards me.
At the same time, I hoped Ricardo wouldn't utter any harsh words. Because I was a coward full of fear.
My voice trembled.
I wanted to speak fiercely.
I wanted to scold him for playing around, but stupidly my voice trembled.
"It's not okay. It can't be okay…!"
I thought to myself.
It was a delusion that you also hate me for not being able to erase the scar.
Creating an indelible scar and causing terrible suffering, and the only thing that comes back is a madwoman looking for Michail.
I think I would have hated it if it were me.
Regardless of whether it's a butler or a friend, I would have just run away. Why didn't you?
Although countless thoughts and indignation poured from within, the words that came out were only a coward's whining.
"Don't lie."
"This isn't a lie."
Tears dripped onto the blanket.
Tears flowed again because the butler was unwilling to say anything bad to me until the end.
I thought I had cried enough, but apparently, there were still many tears left.
Hiding my crying face, I said.
"It hurt."
"…"
"You were hurting as if you'd die."
"It's oka…"
"What's… what's okay!!!"
I yanked Ricardo's hand away irritably.
"You could have died! Know that? You could have died….!"
Ricardo bowed his head.
He wasn't at fault, yet he bowed his head, clenching his fist on the bed. Ricardo, whose shoulders were hunched over and fists were opening and closing, pained my heart.
I buried my face in the blanket.
I rubbed my eyes and tried to calm the trembling heart, but the quivering shoulders couldn't stop the crying.
"You could have died right there…."
"…"
Ricardo exhaled deeply.
I could feel a small tremble in the sigh he let out.
Breathing another long breath, Ricardo, with my face buried in the blanket, whispered to me.
"I knew."
Ricardo's calm voice chilled my heart. I felt like my breath stopped. Because I heard words I didn't want to hear from Ricardo's mouth.
Before I could question ‘why…', Ricardo continued his words.
"I thought it was for the best."
The best… Hard to deny but the only way. It was the best way because of that. Yet, there would have also been the option of not saving me…
I was at a loss for words at the mention of ‘the best.'
Ricardo spoke with a trembling voice. It felt as though he didn't want to talk, conveying with a voice tinged with forced trembling.
"Miss. You see, I…"
I hear Ricardo sigh heavily.
Frantically combing his hair back, Ricardo, just like me, buried his face in his hand as he spoke.
"You are truly precious to me."
"It's really dangerous! You could have died!"
"I know. I am aware you cherish me, Miss. That's why you employed a poor orphan like me as your butler."
I objected to Ricardo's assertive defense. It wasn’t such a big deal to risk his life over.
I wasn’t a hero like Michail who would save the world, nor a woman like Yuria who was loved by all, so there was no reason whatsoever to risk one’s life for a bad-tempered villainess like me.
I simply picked up Ricardo out of curiosity, and it was just his luck. I couldn't believe he would risk his life for something so trivial.
Because it felt like a lie for my sake.
So, I spoke directly.
"You'd risk your life over something so small? Are you crazy? Did you think you were some saint or hero?"
"It wasn't something so small."
Ricardo made a displeased face as he lifted his bangs. It was an expression even uglier than when he showed his scar on his arm.
He showed me a lightly indented scar on his forehead.
Though it had faded over time, the deep marks proved it was indeed a scar. Ricardo took a deep breath and continued talking.
"To me, it wasn’t anything minor."
I didn't really know much about that scar. All I did was pick up a dying kid in the rain.
The scar didn't mean much to me.
I said to Ricardo.
"That's just… you were lucky."
Ricardo spoke decisively.
"Sometimes, that luck can change a person."
Ricardo covered his forehead.
"To just call it luck diminishes the significance of how it changed my life. I was begging in slums, extracting tolls from other kids."
"You were a kid too."
"I was an extraordinary kid, so I'm an exception."
Ricardo sighed deeply.
"I am a butler. A butler who has stood by you for 13 years. A butler who knows well what you like and dislike."
"You're just a butler."
Ricardo smiled playfully.
"What do you mean, ‘just a butler'? I take pride in my profession, you know."
It was a pointless statement.
What was so great about being a butler? All they got was a mere appointment plaque and a black butler's suit, without the estates, assets, and social command that other nobles had—a butler for a fallen noble lady wasn’t much.
Ricardo's words were nothing but a grand-sounding excuse.
I wanted to know Ricardo's true feelings.
I wanted to know his true feelings—his resentment towards me.
And so I spoke crookedly. Like a hedgehog raising its spines unintentionally, I reflexively bristled.
"Better you curse me."
"…"
"Better you tell me to my face that you hate me, that I make you uncomfortable… say it if you pity me.”
I was displaying false pride.
Because no other answer came to me.
I couldn't accept such actions if it wasn't out of pity.
Ricardo looked at me.
He saw me dropping tears onto the blanket while spitting out cold words.
"Miss, if you tell someone to curse with that kind of face, it carries no conviction, you know?"
"How can anyone curse while sniveling and dripping with snot?"
I told him.
Stop playing around.
This time, I glared at Ricardo with a somewhat harsh expression, but Ricardo responded seriously as well.
Ricardo sighed. He glanced once at the window glittering with stars, and then at my face.
The face that dripped with tears I couldn't help shedding despite not wanting to cry.
"Miss, you said you cared for me. I care a bit more for you than you do for me. Just a tiny bit more."
"What's that supposed to mean…"
"13 years is more compelling than one thinks. At our first meeting, I thought you were a madwoman, but as time passed, I developed a kind of affection for you."
Ricardo smiled sweetly.
"You called for me to curse, didn’t you?"
He whispered a curse softly into my ear.
"Fool."
Then he raised his head as if feeling clearer.
"This should make up for it. If you have complaints later, do not sulk about the side dishes — just eat your food well."
Stop. Stop saying such things.
It shouldn't have ended this way, not again.
There had to be a firm resolution.
I said to Ricardo.
"Don't you hate me?"
Ricardo pondered for a moment.
"I don't hate you, except when you complain about the side dishes. As long as you don't set the bell peppers aside on the plate."
"No… Not that."
I said what I was thinking inside.
What Ricardo thought of me, whether he might hate or despise me, I brought that topic up.
"Me…"
My lips wouldn't part.
My lips, trying to speak of that day, were frozen by fear, but I thought this was my only chance.
Knowing too well that I'd be too cowardly to ever ask this fool of a butler again.
With a trembling heart, I spoke.
"Do you not hate me… for what happened to you because of me?"
Ricardo responded clearly.
"I don't hate you at all. It was my own choice."
Tears streamed down.
I thought they would not come anymore, that after crying so long there would be no tears left, but Ricardo’s nonchalant reply made me cry again.
"It's all… my fault. If I hadn't liked Michail, you wouldn't have been tormented like this."
My feelings surged.
"I…! If I hadn't stupidly used black magic, you could have lived happily. You could have gone to the Academy and not been a butler; you might have done something else."
The weight of the butler's life, ruined because of an incident caused by me, seemed to press down on my shoulders. It was all because of the person I am. It was my responsibility alone since I could blame no one else and had no excuses to offer.
I couldn’t lift my head, burdened by guilt.
"Me…!"
My voice shivered.
I could barely speak through the welled-up emotion.
"I… am really sorry…"
I grabbed Ricardo's arm and buried my face in it.
Worried if just holding it would hurt him. Worried if I was gripping too tightly but feeling like my shaky heart might crumble if I didn’t hold onto his arm.
"I'm terribly sorry… every time I see your face, it tears me apart thinking of how much it hurt you…"
If I were you.
I think I would have lived life as if you were an enemy, without even seeing your face.
"You genuinely don't hate me?"
All was contained in these words.
The mistake of ruining Ricardo's life, causing him pain that never should have happened, all was encapsulated in this one question.
"Huuh… I…"
Overwhelmed by emotion, I reached the limit of what I could say.
"I… am genuinely sorry…"
I held Ricardo's arm and cried.
Ricardo hugged me and replied briefly.
"It's okay. Really."
Ricardo spoke softly, patted my back, and said.
"How can you stop a person from loving another person?"
Ricardo lifted my head and pressed on it like a goldfish. Ricardo looked at my squished face and smiled softly.
"Let's end this discussion."
As usual, he finished speaking with a touch of jest.
"You look truly hideous when you cry."
That night, I wept all night long in Ricardo's arms.
***
The next day.
Ricardo changed the wet towel on my burning forehead and said.
"Panda…"
"Don't laugh."
"Your eyes are as swollen as fists."
"Eeek… Don't laugh!!"
I picked up the wet towel from my forehead.
And then I threw it at Ricardo.