To My First Love, With Regret - 108

Eve asked with a face so aghast it was as if she were witnessing a bizarre, grotesque farce. At that blatant contempt, Ethan’s pride—which he had been struggling to suppress—writhed.

Why? Is hearing a proposal from a rootless thug like me an indelible insult to the high-born Lady?

Fine. If that’s the case, I’ll insult you until you’re dying of shame.

To execute that twisted vow immediately, he reached into his pocket and opened a small leather box. Naturally, it held a ring, but it was fundamentally different from the symbol of his first, impoverished proposal.

Atop a cold platinum crown, a massive diamond emitted a sharp, icy light. It was unrealistically large, as if a chunk of an iceberg had been forcibly carved out and embedded there; it looked less like a ring and more like a weapon.

Could anything be more fitting for the purpose of this destructive marriage?

Just as the ostentatiously glittering gem masked the ulterior motives of the proposal, Ethan masked his inner self—grotesquely distorted by vengeance—with the casual air of a successful man.

—Remember? I promised that when I made a lot of money, I’d buy you a new ring, the biggest and most brilliant in the world.

In truth, he hadn’t kept the promise; he’d violated it. This wasn’t a ring Ethan had bought for Eve. It was the payment he had received for transporting long-distance passengers from Constance to a third country.

In other words, he was a fraud passing off a second-hand item as new. But then, hadn’t Evelyn Sherwood been the first to run a scam?

There is no wedding gift more fitting for a con artist than stolen goods.

He had inwardly looked forward to the poetic justice of watching the woman who had thoroughly deceived him fall for a trick of his own. If that weren’t the case, the fact that Eve didn’t even spare the ring a glance wouldn’t be this disappointing.

She simply looked him in the eye with dry, unreadable pupils.

What? Is this not enough to satisfy the great Lady’s standards?

No matter how filthy the source, it was the largest and finest diamond he had ever laid hands on, yet she ignored it. The man—who failed to realize that even the most expensive thing in the world was worthless to Eve if it lacked sincerity—felt his pride trampled once again. It wasn’t pleasant feeling like a pathetic, penniless nineteen-year-old again.

He decided to stop dragging it out and get this ordeal over with. Omitting any sweet-talk or disgusting flattery meant to sway a woman’s expensive heart, he got straight to the point.

—Will you marry me?

Actually, it was a question that didn’t even need to be asked, let alone flattered. This woman had no right of refusal in the first place.

The altar was already set, and a priest with heavy pockets was ready to bless this deceptive union at a moment’s notice. Whether by legal entanglement or brute force, the means to make Evelyn Sherwood sign the marriage contract herself were already in his hands.

Thus, this was not a question seeking permission. It was merely giving her a choice: would she be dragged like a beast to the slaughterhouse, or would she maintain her dignity as a Lady and walk to him on her own two feet?

—…Marriage?

Eve knew she had no choice. That was why it was so absurd to see this boor formally asking for her intent with such courtesy.

Of course, that courtesy wasn’t even half-sincere.

—Are you asking a woman who just put her husband in the ground to marry you? Can’t you see I’m still wearing mourning clothes?

Worse, on the ring finger of her left hand—where Ethan was ruthlessly trying to shove the engagement ring—sat the wedding band she had shared with Owen, plain as day.

—Even if we set aside the basic decencies of being human….

She hadn’t expected a conscience from this shameless man. Eve was simply, purely shocked by the sheer lack of common sense from a former elite university student.

—The law won’t allow it, will it?

Did he really not know that to prevent confusion regarding succession and inheritance, a woman cannot remarry for three months after being widowed?

Ethan burst out laughing the moment he heard that. As if Eve were the naive one.

—Why worry about such useless things? Eve, power is the law. And that means I am the law.

Ethan had perfected his genius design long ago. Skipping a measly remarriage prohibition period was a trivial part of his grand scheme. According to his design, Evelyn Sherwood would be made to have never been another man’s wife at all.

Of course, Eve didn’t need to know the design.

—I know waiting is the common-sense thing to do, but I’m so anxious that someone else might snatch you away that I can’t wait a single day.

This, at least, was the truth rather than flattery. He had no idea what other bastard might jump in and mess up his plans.

—Let’s be honest. You aren’t exactly in a position to be leisurely, are you?

At the insult hidden in his words, Eve’s eyes turned sharp. The haughty Lady maintained her pride even in a split-second crisis and asked coldly:

—And why am I not ‘leisurely’?

—Because your belly will be showing soon.

Eve’s eyes widened. She couldn’t help but be startled now that her secret was out. Ethan reached out toward her lower abdomen with the confidence of a conqueror planting a flag.

—You know it too. That this child is mine.

Then, he spread his large hand and covered her. Against her flat stomach, the child could not yet be felt. It was only natural, as she had been with child for less than two months.

Even if there was no quickening to touch at his fingertips, the child was certainly breathing and growing beneath this thin skin. The being that was the beginning and would be the end of this entire tragedy. His child, whom he would finally hold after such a long, winding road.

Was he swept away by piercing remorse or soaring ecstasy?

Overcome by passion, Ethan bowed his head. He intended to offer his first greeting to the child, but the mother—famed for her lack of mercy—doused that fire with ice-cold water.

—A child? What kind of nonsense is that? Are you drunk?

Ethan lifted his head and faced Eve. Her expression of utter confusion was incredibly convincing. She was indeed a fraud for the ages, but one cannot deceive a man who already knows the truth.

—Eve, I’ve already found you out. It’s no use deny…..

—Ethan.

A voice as sharp and cold as shattered glass cut him off.

—I don’t know why you’ve come to such a misunderstanding, but…

He expected her to say, ‘I’m not pregnant.’ He expected more meaningless babble. Instead, Eve suddenly bit her lip hard, as if suppressing something trying to burst out from within.

The silence was long and heavy. At its end, Eve surrendered with a deep sigh and opened her mouth as if revealing a shameful secret she had intended to take to her grave.

—I… am incapable of bearing children.

—…What?

Ethan instinctively barked out a hollow laugh of denial, as one does when hearing a confession they couldn’t have even imagined.

—Stop the pathetic bullshit. You think you can deceive me with such a flimsy lie?

This wasn’t a blind denial born from a desire to flee reality. It was a conviction based on clear evidence.

—If what you say is true, why was Owen Kallas bragging about becoming a father?

—My God…

Eve furrowed her brow and began to mutter more nonsense.

—That lecherous man, obsessed with women… I suppose he had someone else. Ah, is that why he tried to kill Chantal?

—I can’t watch your terrible acting any long…..

Ethan grabbed Eve’s wrist, intending to drag her to an obstetrician to settle this once and for all, but at the next question, the strength drained helplessly from his grip.

—Did Owen ever say I was the one carrying the child?

—…….

Ethan’s mouth snapped shut. He retraced his memory, and realized that the bastard had never explicitly said ‘Eve’ was carrying his child.

However, given how seamlessly their conversation about the child had flowed, the circumstances pointed toward the woman being Eve. Furthermore…

Ethan rolled the words that had been lodged in his chest like a thorn over his tongue. He couldn’t suffer through this confusion, guessing on his own forever. Only after steeling himself to remain calm no matter the answer did he pull that thorn out and aim it at her.

—Kallas told me that you bore his son a long time ago.

—What kind of crazy talk is that?!

Eve bolted from her seat, letting out a cry that was nearly a scream. Her pale face flushed crimson with a sense of humiliation. Her trembling fists looked ready to grab the dead man by the scruff of his neck and choke the life out of him all over again.

If this was acting, the rage was far too vivid. That violent reaction, ironically, made Ethan calm.

As I thought. I was simply deceived by a dead man.

the self-loathing of having been played by a pathetic loser’s obvious lie lasted only a moment; the ensuing relief was as intense as a sense of liberation.

Ethan quickly tore down the horrific puzzles he had pieced together based on Kallas’s lies—like the loathing that had sprouted from the suspicion that Tony was Eve’s son with that man.