About Your Pride and My Prejudice

Chapter 89:

I wish I could be someone special to him. If I could stand proudly by his side. I had such a fleeting imagination.

But it was all useless. Alan Leopold to me was beyond reach.

He was shining as bright as the moon and stars in the distance and high above, while I was always looking up at him from a low, dark place. He was so far away that even though I reached out with burning longing, I quickly withdrew my arms in regret.

The immeasurable gap between him and me made me cry without fail. I was always thirsty and cold when I thought of him. I blamed my precious second life, which I had gained like a lie, because of that beautiful man.

And every time I did that, I hated myself unbearably.

Even though it was late at night, Sandra not only prepared tea for me, but also stayed with me until my tears stopped completely. Sandras dark amber eyes contained anxiety and regret. She seemed to have a lot to say, but she didnt say much like me.

Sandra was commuting from her home in Lunos because she wasnt a maid here, and today she waited for me and stood by my side, even though it was well past the time for her to return. As a result, midnight has passed.

I succeeded in persuading her to go to sleep in a guest room in the separate house since it was already too late and anyway the guest room is always empty.

When Sandra withdrew with a good nights greetings and the pitch blackness finally came into the room, I remembered Alan like a habit.

I stayed up all night last night, so I didnt sleep today except for a short nap during the day. Of course, my head was fuzzy, and my body was tired without any strength to lift a hand. It makes me want to jump into a deep sleep right now.

But consciousness did not send me to the realm of sleep.

Alan.

Why didnt he even make an excuse?

Although he looks perfect, he is actually just a young man who has just come of age. So he could have argued that he was impulsive and that it was because he was still not good at controlling his emotions.

He could have been cowardly enough to avoid a momentary accusation.

This is too harsh, Alan. Its like Ive become a child whose head is so dazed that I cant even decide whats right and whats wrong. I still want to bite my tongue because of my heart which is longing for you. You make me miserable every time, in one way or another.

Anything is fine, so you should have given me an excuse. Then I wouldnt have to forsake myself who loved you. I wouldnt have had to throw away all that time and memory.

If there was even a single, trivial excuse, I would definitely pretend to be deceived and you.

Melissa, please.

I clenched my hands as if to punish myself. As the nail digs into the soft palm of my hand, a piercing pain rushes to the spot. 

However, this was nothing compared to the crushing feeling in  my heart. Compared to this suffocating agony.

Why am I so stupid and insignificant? I hated not being able to sleep because I cried so sadly at the shivering insult, and I was still using all my thoughts to defend him even though he is the reason why my eyes are hot and teary. 

What am I going to do by guessing the excuse that the person didnt even come up with?

Today I poured out an outspoken curse on him. No matter how hard I pulled myself together, I think I was pretty good for a person who was melting like butter on a piece of bread.

Disgusting bastard, the worst, prodigal playboy, filthy deceiver, a murderer.

Whats surprising is that it took less than a minute to unleash these grave accusations. 

It was, indeed, a bold move that I would have never imagined in the past. But its ridiculous that the only reason that drove me that hard was the trace of a woman left on his shirt.

I cant believe Im giving out such harsh hostility because of the shock that I had seen from his promiscuity. Did I mistakenly think that I was something special to him just because I kissed him? It was so funny that I could laugh at my own dignity and integrity.

Even so, it was unexpected that I was in pain from the sharp accusations that were spit out to hurt him. Had I been living with Alan Leopold for so long that hurting him felt like an attack on myself?

Im seriously ill.

Poor Melissa Collins. I crouched further under the blanket, hugging my shoulders, thinking that I was really beyond redemption

Then, I closed my eyes straight away to sleep, but Alans last words, which were ringing in my head, were repeated even more clearly. Senses are naturally sharpened in the stillness of darkness.

I thought youd be different.

Knowing what he really was, I couldnt stop myself from becoming uncontrollably unhappy the moment I heard it. But what if Alan hadnt come over with a lipstick stain?

If he did, I might have melted on the spot. Maybe I would have felt like I was surrounded by ecstatic light.

Him saying that Im the only one whos different. Thats what Ive been longing to hear for a long time..

* * *

It was a dull afternoon. I was sitting at the table with my hand supporting my chin.

The table filled with empty manuscripts was as crowded as my head. The pen, which is dry and curled at the end, gives a heavy burden just by looking at it. It was natural that my eyes shifted toward a small vase in one corner.

A pale pink peony whose meaning is shyness. It was still showing off its lovely bloom, but it was clear enough to be seen with the naked eye that the petals were gradually losing their vitality.

How much longer will it last? It is so natural that the vase will soon be empty that it is not sad. The flowers will wither away soon. Thats something even a child would know.

Then suddenly I felt similar to the poor flower trapped with its roots cut off in a beautiful vase. It doesnt seem like anyone elses business that its just drying up slowly without any hope or expectation.. Somehow feeling cramped, I rubbed my neck without heat.

Actually, Ive been in a dilemma without a way out. I bombarded Alan with horrible words and he was so angry that he even left me behind, so what happens to him and me now?

Probably we wont eat dinner together and I wont receive the bouquets of flowers that he used to give me. However, it doesnt mean hes going to let me out. Although going out is exactly what I want. He may be trying to lock me up even more now that he hates me.

Maybe hell fire my maid and leave me alone in terrible loneliness again. No one has ever insulted Alan Leopold more sharply than I have, so it was not unreasonable to think this way.

Then should I win over one maid to my side? Or, wait for the subordinate who came for his errand to get lost again and come into the annex, then beg for help to communicate my situation outside the mansion.

Nonsense.

I dont have any blind allegiance to Alan and his family, so what am I going to do to recruit them? Its good if it doesnt get in his ear and get sent to a dungeon.

Then there is only one conclusion.

.

It is certain that Alan likes this novel. So if I complete this, I can trade for my freedom. For him, who has always held only noble and beautiful women, the woman I am is an unusual collectible, nothing more, nothing less.

There will be countless women who will replace me even if I go out to the streets right now. How many of them wont be fascinated by the luxurious comforts offered here and Alan Leopolds special treatment?

This vast garden is not enough to line up the women who are eager to replace Melissa Collins. So lets hurry up and finish the novel, I will just pull myself together again. Its true that theres no object to hang on to unless its this.

I dont care about the ending now. It will be difficult to end beautifully as the ending is set, but lets write honestly with the current feelings. Its about completed.

With that in mind, it wasnt until half a day after I started the day that I slowly stretched to write. Its been a while since I wrote it, so it will take some time to immerse myself in the flow.

Miss.

At that very moment Sandra came into the room.

I brought some refreshments. Its the snack you enjoyed the other day.

Thank you.

After Alan Leopold returned from the Hwa Empire, food and sweets from that Empire often appeared on the table. Perhaps among the supplies he brought back to Lunoa were spices and ingredients.

Even though it was a mysterious Empire, the food there tasted faint and welcoming, perhaps because it was an Eastern empire. As for tea, its just not my taste.

At that time, Sandra, who had gathered her pastimes and sat on a chair in front of the window, asked at once.

By the way, why isnt Mr. Maurice coming?

Oh, I said its okay to come only once a week.

The problem is that I forgot to tell Alan Leopold.

But its already been over a week

Is it already?

Yes. Im worried that something might have happened.

However, Sandras face was strange. I dont think theres any special relationship between them. Its just that the expression or the atmosphere feels more like concern than a passing remark.

I asked with a blank face.

Sandra, do you like Mr. Maurice?

What? Why do you say that?

She was about to embroider over the white handkerchief, but she asked back in surprise.

You seem very anxious.

Love and anxiety are feelings that can never be separated.

Oh, no. I dont like him. What Im worried about is.

.

If anything happens to him.

Sandra hesitated as she opened and closed her lips several times. Rolling her eyes to her eyes was a reaction similar to when she talked about Monica Elwood the other day.

At that moment I thought about changing the topic because she looked like she was in a predicament,

Oh, by the way.

She opened her mouth first.

Oh, by the way, I heard what you were curious about this morning.