My Beloved, Whom I Desire to Kill - 332

The man watering the tulips in the flowerbed where Lodi was buried looked down at the adjacent withered aster. His eyes reflected a confusion, unable to understand why the dead plant was there.

As he reached out his hand toward it, Giselle involuntarily cried out with a sharp voice:

—Don’t touch it!

You robbed me of the chance to apologize to Lorenz for the rest of my life, so don’t you dare touch his grave—a grave he never asked for, created only for my own pathetic self-consolation.

Edwin turned around. The moment her eyes met his startled gaze, she snapped back to reality.

—I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.

She turned away as if to flee and headed for the study. The closed study door was an unspoken message not to disturb her while she was supposedly studying for the bar exam. It was, of course, an excuse. She couldn’t focus on any book.

Who were you angry at?

Edwin had the right to hate the invader who compromised the integrity of his self and to rejoice entirely in his liberation.

Giselle, however, had no right whatsoever. And certainly no right to blame or be angry.

Giselle was the first person to frame:

Lorenz.

She suddenly realized the meaning of a paper tucked into the bottom drawer of her desk, which was always locked, and buried her face in her hands.

It must have been the first Christmas Eve after she and Edwin started dating. Lorenz had asked Giselle to lend him her safe. He said he wanted to keep the thoughtless gift she had given him hidden from Edwin.

Formless memories could be hidden from the body’s owner, but tangible objects could not.

So she had given him the password, and occasionally, when she opened it, she would find it littered with junk that belonged in the trash, like movie tickets, bar receipts, and cigarette packs.

After Lorenz died, seeing those ‘memories’ every time she opened the safe became painful, so she swept them all into a box and moved them here.

That’s when she found a strange piece of paper: torn but whole, one sheet thick as two. After unfolding it and reading the content, she couldn’t move from the spot for a long time in shock.

It was a drawing of a man who had hanged himself.

And beneath it, the name Lorenz, written with an unnerving boldness and clarity.

That day, Lorenz had secretly occupied the body, further cementing the false accusation against himself by committing that suicidal act—all just to retrieve a piece of trash.

And yet, he had picked up every last piece of that paper, which was nothing short of an insult, from the trash can and glued it onto a new sheet as if it were a treasure.

Because Giselle had written his name for him. For the very first time.

Her chest tore along the paper’s crack. Others receive their name first written on a birth certificate, yet he had received it as a death sentence and cherished it.

I told you to die, and you were happy about that, too? Why are you acting stupid when you’re supposed to be cunning?

It’s unfair and miserable. Then you should hate me.

—I love you anyway…

Had Giselle ever given him a chance, anyway? She couldn’t recall.

Looking back, the only thing she realized was that from the day they met again at the training camp until he, driven mad by his unjust situation, pulled out a knife, Lorenz had never betrayed Giselle’s trust.

He had kept his promise and changed. But because Giselle had not changed, Lorenz was ceaselessly doubted.

You were right. If I don’t trust you, how can you trust me?

Giselle was just as guilty of mistreating the person who had fought for her.

—But I… I was wrong to try to kill your brother. I’m sorry.

Exhausted by this, the man took on sins he hadn’t committed and gave up his life. Giselle was drenched in tears and collapsed.

I killed you.

—I will be forever free from all suffering, but you will be tormented until the day you die. I hope you regret for the rest of your life that you didn’t trust me.

That night, the person who was truly cursed was Giselle.

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Edwin stood at the edge of the sheer cliff, looking down into the abyss below.

The dark blue sea, resembling the anger of the dead man, surged up as if to swallow him. Fragments of the waves, broken into mere spray after colliding with the stubborn barrier and failing to fulfill their intent, splashed against Edwin’s cheek. They smelled like tears.

His mind flashed back to the nights Giselle secretly cried.

—Don’t touch it!

He had found out when he went to discard the dead flower in the garden. It was the flowerpot Lorenz had given Giselle. She had buried it next to the dead dog—a grave for yet another death.

Giselle had been mourning Lorenz, hidden from Edwin.

He had long assumed her extended dejection was due to losing her beloved dog. He realized only then that he was wrong.

That night, he couldn’t sleep. But Giselle must have thought he was asleep. At some point, her tossing and turning stopped, and he felt her gaze fixed on him in the darkness. Then, after a long silence…

—Lorenz.

She whispered another man’s name. She waited briefly, then called it again, more clearly this time. When he didn’t appear, stifled sobbing began.

—I’m sorry… Come back…

What are you sorry to him for?

Giselle had no fault to apologize to Lorenz for. Well, she did have one, but she couldn’t possibly know it. Then was it about the final moments?

Yet, Edwin instantly intuited that she wasn’t just hoping for him to return because she had something to apologize for. Had Giselle ever truly detached herself from Lorenz, even when treating him as dead? The space he occupied in her heart must have already been too vast to allow it.

When he and Giselle first became lovers, Lorenz, burning with jealousy, showed Edwin one memory. It was the late night when Giselle came to meet him in a secluded area of the training camp.

Even though it wasn’t a secret rendezvous, Edwin had been forced to surrender to jealousy. Lorenz was the friend who had listened to her honest confession about her guilt over consuming dogs in the past. She spoke freely to him about things she would never discuss, even when Edwin asked.

‘See? Natalia can tell me anything. She’s more comfortable with me. When she’s having the hardest time, she’ll look for me, not you.’

It was a bitter truth, and in some ways, he might have been right. In that regard, Edwin couldn’t catch up to Lorenz.

But he never doubted that Giselle loved him. Lorenz was simply able to fill the void Edwin could not, due to the nature of their relationship and his own inherent temperament.

Do you wish for him to return?

What kind of man would give a time bomb back to the woman he loved just because she wished for it? Edwin had no intention of living with madness for the rest of his life just to ease Giselle’s guilt. But his resolve, though previously so firm, crumbled like a sandcastle when soaked in his lover’s tears.

And was he truly a time bomb? Fear is born of ignorance. Having finally understood the heart of the man he once feared because he didn’t know it, he was no longer afraid. Hadn’t he already trusted him and entrusted his woman to him?

The beginning of their love was flawed, and he still felt the urge to kill the dead man again, but Lorenz’s remorse and love were undeniably real. It was a truth Edwin would never have believed had the man not left a piece of his consciousness behind.

Giselle, if you want him, I must give him back.

This was not a benevolent sacrifice. It was also a shameful atonement.

It was a difficult decision, but simple and straightforward compared to the means required to achieve it. Edwin agonized for days.

How do I revive his personality?

Would he awaken if he faced a life-threatening crisis?

No, would he revive if he was tortured, like in the period when he was first born?

No one knew how to resurrect the dead. He groped in the darkness, considering every wild possibility, until he arrived at the most extreme and dangerous idea. Yet, that insane delusion would, ironically, provide Edwin with the solution.

The key lay in experiencing the moment when the other personality was born, once more. He didn’t need to inflict torture on his body for that.

—Duke, thank you for waiting.

Turning around, he saw an older man with a scraggly, untrimmed beard, wearing a flannel shirt and overalls, looking more like a farmer than a psychiatrist. Edwin offered a polite smile and walked away from the cliff.

—It has been a pleasant time, thank you. The scenery behind your house is spectacular; it’s understandable why you’d be reluctant to leave the Aides Islands.

Following Dr. Galloway across the garden, they reached a small, tranquil cabin. The small wood-burning stove quickly made the place cozy; this was the doctor’s consultation room.

—You are the first patient who has asked for a cured illness to be brought back, rather than cured.

The doctor had initially expressed his reluctance and refused this absurd request, but Edwin, who had traveled to this remote location only reachable by boat, eventually persuaded him.

—Now, close your eyes.

The doctor asked no further questions and immediately began the hypnosis.

—Breathe in slowly… and exhale very slowly, letting go of all worries and anxieties.

He drifted into a state of relaxation. Edwin dismissed the concern that if this method failed, there would truly be no other answer. For the same reason, he also pushed away his worry for Giselle, who would be alone in Richmond, as he hadn’t told her his purpose for leaving.

—Now, we will return to the moment the other personality was born.