My Beloved, Whom I Desire to Kill - 333
However, he could not go back. It was because his mind was hesitating. The Doctor, who had already experienced several failures, recognized this instantly and tried to calm him.
—You’ll feel aversion and fear. But the memory cannot harm you.
The Doctor’s words held power, yet they had never worked on this particular memory.
—Even if it harms you, another personality will simply emerge. That is precisely what you want, isn’t it? When you feel like fleeing, let’s ask yourself why you must return to that memory.
Giselle.
Edwin firmed his resolve and approached the memory that he had buried deep in the recesses of his mind. It felt like digging up a grave, knowing that the corpse would jump up and try to kill him.
The faces of the interrogators, which he thought he had forgotten, rose clearly before him. The foreign atmosphere, steeped in the smell of damp mold and dry ash, was also palpable. His jaw began to ache and stiffen, either because his senses had sprung vividly back to life or because he was clenching his teeth as he had back then.
Electrodes clashed before his eyes, spitting sparks, a prelude to his death. Even more dangerous than the electrodes, the questions drove Edwin towards a spiritual death.
It was the moment he thought going mad would be easier. Perhaps that was the catalyst.
The electrode approached. He wanted to stop before it touched his body.
Giselle. Think of Giselle’s tears.
It was the same even in the moment that had been reality, not a memory. I must survive and return to Giselle. Hadn’t he always endured by thinking of her?
The electrode finally made contact. A pain that no human strength could overcome pierced his entire body. Tears, which he had been unable to shed weakly in front of his enemies at the time, ran down Edwin’s cheeks.
—You endured well. You are not in pain now.
You survived such torment. Yes, you endured well. That’s incredible.
The man, who was usually not generous to himself, acknowledged himself for the first time. Was it because he had shifted the focus of his thoughts to a safe future—to the present? After doing so, looking into the memory gradually became less agonizing.
At one point, watching the scene like a movie seen from a first-person observer’s angle, the man being tortured began to feel like he was not himself. His way of speaking changed, his demeanor changed. He claimed he was another person.
He appeared.
Edwin separated his body from the one tied to the chair. His efforts were rewarded; he had spent a long time exploring the man’s depths, attempting countless impossible feats in his subconscious. Now, it happened simply by thinking, just like controlling a dream.
Edwin Eccleston had become two people. Therefore, from this point on, this was no longer a memory. It was a trap.
He approached his other self stealthily, holding his breath, as if capturing swift prey. That other self, still a part of the memory, was babbling nonsense to the interrogators behind Edwin, even as Edwin stood right in front of him.
—Lorenz.
Edwin grabbed him by the collar and forced him to look. Before their eyes could meet, the face vanished, and the entire body melted away into foam.
Edwin did not give up. He repeated the memory over and over until the fear and pain became dull.
He endlessly relived the moment the other personality was born, showing him his memories and making him feel his emotions, hoping to bring back the Lorenz he knew. He continued until the figure became a separate consciousness, a distinct personality, and not just a fragment of memory.
After arduous attempts, Lorenz finally saw him. Their clouded eyes recognized each other. He recognized himself. He was confused, like someone whose deep sleep was interrupted, waking up to find himself in the wrong place.
Edwin grabbed the man, who couldn’t accept the reality of being alive again and kept trying to retreat into the memory, and shouted:
—I was sorry for not acknowledging you. I acknowledge you now. I created you. You are a part of me.
Therefore, you are the sin I must bear and the other self I must embrace.
—Your death was a liberation for no one.
Instead of stealing his peace and chaining him back to himself, Edwin promised to give him what he desired.
—Giselle wants you. So, come back to the woman we love!
⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅
In Giselle’s backyard, the tulip stalks grew long, and they began to burst into bloom as if vying with each other.
Every time she saw them, she thought of the man she had planted the tulips with. They had prepared for the next spring together, but they did not greet it together.
In the first spring, Giselle had turned away from him, and he had thrown away all the springs that followed.
Giselle paused, thrusting the trowel into the soil, and sighed. She had started gardening to sort out her jumbled feelings, but it only made them more muddled.
Stop thinking about Lorenz.
That’s clearly why Edwin left.
He had said he had somewhere to go alone but wouldn’t say where. For three days now, he had called every day to check on her, but he wouldn’t tell her the phone number of where he was staying.
I think he heard what I said to Lorenz.
He was probably hurt, but instead of fighting with Giselle, he might be taking time to process it alone.
—Sigh…
Her body was in the garden, but her focus was entirely on the phone inside the house, whose door she had left wide open. Today, no calls had come since their single conversation that morning.
Will I lose Edwin, too, after Lorenz?
To hurt every man who loved her—Giselle Bishop was the worst kind of woman.
Giselle frantically ripped out weeds instead of pulling out her hair. She had only secluded herself indoors for a few days, but the weeds had already taken over the flowerbed.
There was even a proud sprout of green leaves right in the middle of a shriveled, bare aster branch. Giselle gathered the long leaf stalks and pulled. She gasped just as the aster was about to be pulled out, root and all.
She quickly let go and peered closely, unable to believe her eyes. It wasn’t a weed. It was a new leaf of the aster.
—It came back to life.
Ding-dong.
Startled by the chime, she raised her head, which had been staring blankly at the aster. It wasn’t the phone; it was the doorbell.
Edwin had returned.
—What were you doing?
—Waiting for you.
Giselle, so glad to see him that tears welled up, though it had only been three days, buried herself deep in his broad chest and hugged Edwin tightly.
A faint, crescent moon-like light shone above her head. As soon as she met his usual, affectionate smile, her anxiety instantly melted away.
—I have something to tell you.
What could it be? As he led her to the living room sofa, her heart froze again. Sitting side-by-side, Edwin took Giselle’s hand. His smile was still tender, but somehow, a look of expectation began to flicker in his steady gaze, as if he had brought a surprise gift or good news.
It doesn’t sound like bad news.
—Actually, I heard everything. You calling out for Lorenz and crying.
The bad news arrived without giving her time to emotionally prepare. Because of that, she couldn’t hide the emotion that surfaced. Giselle belatedly lowered her head.
—I’m sorry you had to hear that.
So, this is what tormented him. That’s why he left me. She tried to hold onto him to clear up the misunderstanding, but Edwin held onto Giselle instead.
—Don’t apologize. I understand how you feel. I wasn’t entirely relieved that he left on his own like that, either.
His confession was shocking. It was uncharacteristic for the man who was supposed to be completely relieved to feel otherwise, yet it was also typical of the affectionate Edwin.
—It’s true I was hurt by you, but that was because you tried to hide your feelings from me. Of course, fundamentally, it’s my fault for not being the kind of person you could easily talk to about anything.
—It’s not your fault. This just isn’t an easy topic to talk about. How can I tell someone who’s happy to have overcome a long illness that I’m not entirely happy about it?
—For anyone else, maybe, but why not between us? When you said you felt sorry for Lorenz, I criticized you, saying I didn’t understand. When you said you’d grown attached to him, I told you to detach yourself. Why couldn’t you do the same to me?
—Well…
—Because you didn’t want to fight? Yes, we haven’t fought much because we carefully handled each other like fragile glass and avoided conflict. But I don’t know if we’re as close as you and Lorenz were—who fought so fiercely—even though we’ve spent more time together.
She wanted to challenge him and say that was nonsense, but Edwin’s expression was so desolate that she stopped. Giselle hugged him and pleaded:
—I don’t think that.
She stepped back to avoid breaking him by clashing, ultimately proving Edwin’s point right.
—Do you know the reason? The courtesy and respect I always tried to maintain with you. That distance made me a man further from your heart than even a rude, shameless person.
—Do you think I loved Lorenz more than you?
He finally embraced Giselle, who had started to confront him, and kissed her on the forehead.
—No. This isn’t a criticism of you; it’s my self-reflection.
Edwin was the kind of person who believed love meant protecting Giselle her entire life from ever encountering a dog, since she was terrified of them due to a terrible memory. Lorenz, on the other hand, believed love meant giving her a dog in that situation. He would push Giselle outside her safe zone and give her a chance to fight and win.
If Lorenz hadn’t been there, Giselle might have only grown into a beautiful but weak flower within Edwin’s fence, easily toppling over in a light wind.
—I’ll try to stop being so overprotective. So, you should also show me what’s in your heart freely, without considering my feelings.
—I’ll try, too.
Two pairs of lips, forming the same arc, only differing in size, pressed together like a stamp and then separated. She thought the conversation had concluded well enough, but it was just the beginning.
—Actually, there’s something I haven’t been honest about, either.
Asure: Only one chapter left and the novel will be finished… I hope you enjoyed the 5-chapter mini-marathon… I’ll publish the last chapter over the weekend (guess which day!)… Stay tuned! … Have a great Thursday!
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Alina 19
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