My Beloved, Whom I Desire to Kill - 233

—Ah, it’s a penalty then. In that case, I’ll take it without thanks.

Giselle quickly took off toward the kitchen, leaving him behind. Whatever the meaning, the bouquet was beautiful. After putting it in a vase so it wouldn’t wilt and placing it in the center of the dining table, she went to grab the other things she had come home for.

—Loddy, dinner time!

Loddy, who had been panting and leaping excitedly by the front door because his favorite man had arrived, rushed to the kitchen in an instant.

—I’m heading out. Watch the house for me.

The dog, with his snout buried in his food bowl, didn’t even glance back.

—I said I’m leaving.

She came out of the kitchen but couldn’t leave the house. The Director was standing in front of the door like a gatekeeper, not moving.

—Let’s go.

—…Your clothes?

—What about my clothes?

What’s wrong with my uniform? It was clean since it was the first time I was wearing it since it was washed. And even though it was a bit chilly outside, we would be indoors, so I didn’t need a jacket.

—That’s what you wear for work.

—So?

Wearing it to a movie theater wasn’t against the law or military regulations, so she couldn’t understand. Instead of explaining, the Director’s eyes widened, and he stared blankly at a blinking Giselle before suddenly letting out a small, hollow laugh. He bit down on his lips, forming that meaningless smile, then opened his mouth.

—Giselle.

Was he finally going to tell her what was wrong with her outfit? The words that followed the sigh between his moving lips were…

—Never mind. Let’s go.

……which only made Giselle more curious.

Why was he acting so strange today?

Because of her well-prepared companion, there was no need to buy movie tickets. They bought a bag of popcorn and two sodas and went into the theater. Since they arrived early, they were able to get the best seats. On the other hand, sitting around and waiting for 20 minutes for the 8 o’clock showing was boring. A good idea suddenly popped into her head.

Should I go out for a quick smoke?

The last time she had a cigarette was when she was playing cards at headquarters earlier. That was before the Director showed up. After dinner, she had instinctively reached for a cigarette, only to nearly suffocate from his nagging about why she was pouring poison into lungs that had just been doused with river water the day before.

This is my only chance.

If she missed this golden opportunity, she would have to hold back until the end of the movie—or until she left this nagging person.

If I go out for a smoke now, I can wash my hands, rinse my mouth, and even use perfume and mints to get rid of the smell.

She calculated that 20 minutes was more than enough time to pull off the perfect crime and return. Giselle turned her head to the man sitting next to her. For some reason, the Director was already looking at Giselle, and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly, his eyes asking her what she had to say.

I’m going out for a smoke.

If I tell him the truth, he won’t let me go.

I’ll just say I’m going to the restroom.

Giselle was about to speak, but the Director spoke first, and her perfect plan was thwarted before it could even begin.

—Do you come to the theater often?

—If there are any interesting new movies out. I guess I come at least once a month.

—This is my first time since I went with you.

….…With me? Giselle went back in time, and way, way back again, until she could finally reach the memory of the last time she went to the theater with him.

—That was even before I started at Fullerton. My goodness.

He hadn’t seen a movie since then. She had been regretting that they had to watch a movie when they both had something they wanted to talk about, but now she felt differently.

This would be the last movie she ever saw with him.

She didn’t plan on meeting him personally again until one of them got married. And by then, she wouldn’t be seeing a married man alone at the movies anyway. The thought of ending the conversation here and going out for a smoke changed.

—Then what do you do for fun, Director?

Edwin’s brow furrowed slightly. They were off duty and not at work, yet she was still calling him «Director.» But he didn’t tell her to stop. The other names Giselle might choose instead were just as unpleasant for him to hear.

—Well… after I enlisted because of you, my life could never be boring.

—My goodness. How can a stressful and heavy job be fun? You must have a broken fun-sensing organ. People really need to have some fun to be healthy.

—I’ve done nothing but have fun for a few years.

Who would describe those years as just having fun? Giselle had learned all about how he had lived during their time apart through Lorenz’s complaints. The first year, he had allegedly locked himself up in a secluded villa to put chains on Lorenz, who refused to give up on Giselle. After that, he spent several years wandering and living in seclusion, painting only meaningless landscapes. The painting must have been his only source of strength.

—Don’t you paint anymore?

—I put it down for a while…

In fact, after meeting Giselle again, Edwin hadn’t even thought about picking up a paintbrush. Not until this very moment.

The woman, shimmering in the light of the movie theater’s spotlight, suddenly sparked inspiration. Her sun-like blonde hair, her warm blue eyes, and even her indifferent and arrogant expression shone with the radiance of a protagonist. If his life were a movie and he were asked who the heroine was, Edwin would point to Giselle Bishop without a moment’s hesitation.

My little child and great hope, my eternal and unfulfilled atonement, and love that came like a disaster.

In no way had any other woman created as many great changes in Edwin’s life as Giselle had.

A story without change cannot be a movie. Likewise, his life only spun in place when Giselle wasn’t there; it only moved forward in one direction or another when she appeared. Giselle Bishop was the only dynamic force in Edwin Eccleston’s stagnant life.

He was suddenly seized by a desire to paint the current Giselle as if she were a movie poster.

—Shall I draw you?

—No.

—…

—I got a bunch of portraits from Lorenz for my Christmas gift.

—That’s not from me, it’s from that guy.

The thief who had stolen his skill without permission had even taken away the chance to paint Giselle’s first portrait. The swindler in his mind chuckled.

—It’s the same person with the same skill drawing the same face, so it’s the same as if you gave it to me, isn’t it?

Edwin’s face hardened, and at the same time, the swindler’s laughter stopped.

—The same person? Pretty one, how can you say such a mean thing to me? I’m truly hurt.

The uninvited guest instantly surfaced to the conscious mind. For some reason, instead of burying him in the deep sea, he watched as he tried to get comfort from Giselle. The sly guest only returned Edwin’s body after the movie began, making it impossible to talk.

It was a war romance with his favorite actors, and the movie itself couldn’t help but be interesting, yet he couldn’t concentrate on the screen. The deeper the protagonists’ desperate love grew, the more couples began to stick together and become one throughout the dark theater, irritating Edwin’s nerves.

It was a godsend that he had stolen this seat from another man. The thought of Howard Garfield doing something like that with Giselle in that very seat tonight made his stomach turn. He must have groaned unintentionally. Giselle glanced at him. He curved his lips as if nothing was wrong, and she turned her gaze back to the screen. He should have pretended to be in pain like the swindler, not smiled.

In the old days, whenever he took her to the theater, the curious little Giselle wouldn’t watch the movie. Instead, she would watch the couples acting out their own romance and whisper to Edwin.

—Little one, just watch the movie.

His role back then was to scold her coldly and keep her head facing forward when it kept turning to the side.

‘Now, she was only watching the movie without being told’

Not only did she not gossip about the couples around them, but she didn’t even whisper about the movie. They used to share their thoughts with each other. It felt like he had lost not only the woman he loved, but also the precious child he once had.

—Doesn’t that guy look like he’s going to steal the letter?

Edwin whispered into her ear first, but Giselle only laughed and didn’t answer. She just looked straight ahead, occasionally took a sip of her cola, and once in a while took some popcorn from the bag Edwin was holding on the armrest between them.

The moment their fingertips met in the popcorn bag was, he swore, an accident. But Edwin purposely traced her slender fingers with his fingertips. He had done it while looking into her eyes as his hand touched hers, so there was no way Giselle didn’t know his actions were intentional.