To My First Love, With Regret - 113

A surge of euphoria struck Ethan with such force that the intoxication of the potent whiskey evaporated in an instant. As the fog cleared and he regained his sobriety, the child before him came into sharp focus.

My child? Not a chance.

It was someone else’s brat. It was Tony, standing at his head—Lord knows when he’d approached so silently—looking down at him with a fixed stare.

—Why are you crying?

—Damn it.

Ethan hurriedly wiped his wet eyes with his hand and pushed himself up.

—Tch. And here you were, giving me a hard time, saying it’s embarrassing for a man to blubber like that.

The look Ethan gave the boy was far from kind. It wasn’t just because of the annoying teasing.

—You.

—Yeah?

—What did you just call me?

—Huh?

—Why did you call me ‘Dad’?

Moments ago, Ethan had mistaken Tony’s voice for his own child’s because the boy had called him Dad. The thought that he’d been toyed with by a child’s slip of the tongue—a child currently clamping a hand over his own mouth—sent a flash of heat straight to Ethan’s head.

—Why would I be your father? Who do you think you are?

When you get down to it, you’re just the spawn of the enemy who caused my own child’s death.

At Ethan’s contemptuous rebuff, the boy’s face, all the way to his ears, turned a vivid crimson. He looked embarrassed at first, but then he flared up in a sudden rage.

—When did I ever call you Dad? I wouldn’t take a mean, crybaby dad even if you gave him to me for free!

That shameless attitude—pinning his own mistake on an innocent person—was very Sherwood-like. The brat huffed and puffed as if his anger still wasn’t spent even after arguing back, then suddenly spun around.

Ethan’s eyes narrowed as he watched the child’s retreating back start to run toward the lighthouse. Before he could even form a thought, the words burst out of his mouth.

—Anthony Sherwood, don’t run!

Only after the roar left his throat did Ethan fall silent, startled by himself. That scolding—it was hauntingly identical to the way Eve spoke when she was worried about Tony.

—Bloody hell… am I starting to mistake someone else’s brat for my own now?

Eve had said she saw her dead child in her brother; it seemed Ethan was beginning to be infected by that same mournful delusion.

But it was hardly a surprise. Tony’s face resembled Eve’s so strikingly that Ethan’s heart had plummeted in the drunken belief that his child had returned to life.

And why does his hair look like mine in this light?

Ethan stared blankly at the small head with its fluttering pale blond hair as it moved further away, and a sudden, cold sinking feeling hit his chest.

—I told you not to run….

The boy didn’t even make it to the lighthouse before stopping in the middle of the road. He bent low at the waist and didn’t move. He was clearly clutching his chest, gasping for air.

—You pathetic bastard. A grown man with nothing better to do than take his anger out on a kid….

Ethan stood up, hurling curses at himself. His head throbbed as if it might split and his vision was spinning, but he didn’t stagger. Moving his body in this kind of wrecked state was a wearying part of his daily routine. After a few long strides, the child was only a step away.

—Kid.

At the call, the boy lifted his head. He turned as if he might approach Ethan, but then brushed past him without so much as a glance. In that haughty posture with his chin tilted high, Ethan could feel the presence of an Evelyn Sherwood who wasn’t even there.

—Always acting exactly like his sister….

Ethan turned and followed the boy.

—Your Grace.

He was definitely sulking. To think he wouldn’t even look back when addressed with such formality.

Ethan shoved his hands deep into his pockets at a slant, walking slowly to keep pace with the small child, and pointed to the object perched on that little head.

—Why are you wearing my hat?

At those words, the boy bristled. He ripped the cap off and threw it at Ethan’s chest.

—I never said you couldn’t wear it.

Ethan snatched it out of the air and pressed it back down firmly onto the boy’s head. His large hand gave the child’s head a rough, blunt pat over the cap.

—It suits you. You’d look sharp if you grew up to be a pilot. Ah, do Dukes not have jobs because it ruins their image? No, wait—one Duke I know is an Army officer. You can just be the first Duke-slash-Air Force officer.

Ethan kept rambling to himself, filling in for the silent child. His mouth was moving incessantly, yet he wasn’t even conscious of the nonsense he was spouting. His mind was entirely dominated by a different thought.

My child never even saw the light of day, yet here you are, enjoying the world to your heart’s content.

A sudden surge of spiteful jealousy welled up, but he found he couldn’t bring himself to hate the boy. If my child had lived, they would have been as lovely as you. He finally understood the sentiment that had made Eve so obsessed with her brother.

—Sigh…

With a heavy breath, Ethan naturally draped his arm around the boy’s shoulders. Tony’s pout was still prominent enough to serve as a saucer for a teacup; Ethan expected him to thrash about and shrug the arm off, but the boy remained surprisingly still.

At first, Tony shot him sidelong glances as if protesting, but the way he kept peeking back suggested he had something on his mind.

—If you’ve got something to say, spit it out. Don’t go acting timid like a coward.

—Then why did you, a grown man…

This little brat, calling an adult ‘you’. He wanted to correct the boy’s manners, but the little one beat him to the punch.

—Why did you cry in Eve’s arms?

Ethan’s brow furrowed instantly. To think the boy had witnessed the whole pathetic display. The flash of humiliation that heated his face was brief; the despair that had driven him to wail surged back, making his eyes sting once more.

Ethan gritted his teeth until the muscles in his jaw bulged, swallowing the agony. Unaware that Ethan’s insides were rotting away, the boy looked up at him with eyes sparkling in innocent expectation and asked brightly:

—Did you and Eve finally make up?

Unable to endure that pure cruelty any longer, Ethan blurted out the truth on impulse.

—No. My child died.

Tony’s eyes went wide. Seeing the boy open his mouth as if to pour out a barrage of questions, Ethan immediately regretted it. His answer, instead of silencing the brat, would likely keep him chattering incessantly.

But for some reason, the boy couldn’t ask a single thing; he simply gasped like a fish out of water before finally managing to squeeze out one question a long while later.

—…You had a child?

—So I’m told.

Ethan didn’t notice the eyes of the child beside him shaking in confusion. Lacking the shame to look back at the road where he had left his own child, he kept his gaze fixed forward. He moved his heavy feet, muttering like a man who had lost his soul.

—A long time ago. I had one… but they say the child died.

—…Died? Which child? Did Eve say that? When did they die? Was it ten years ago?

The expected volley of questions came pouring out. Ethan fell silent. This wasn’t a story for a child, and the boy’s attitude—prying into someone’s painful past as if digging for gossip—was grating.

Even as Ethan remained silent, Tony was restless. He walked while staring intently up at Ethan, nearly tripping over a stone…

—Whoops!

—Where are you looking while you’re walking?

Ethan caught him quickly and let go. From then on, the boy seemed to watch his feet carefully as he walked. Or so Ethan thought.

—Ack!

Until the boy stepped straight into a puddle right in front of him.

—I’m the one who drank the whiskey; why are you the one who can’t stay on his feet?

Unable to watch any longer, Ethan sighed and grabbed the boy’s hand to lead him. The child didn’t pull away.

I guess he figures he has someone to watch the road for him now.

Tony walked with his gaze fixed entirely on Ethan’s face, then suddenly squeezed his hand tight. Out of nowhere, he dropped a bizarre statement with the solemnity of a life-altering confession.

—Ethan’s son is still alive.

—…What?

Gazing at Ethan, whose thoughts had ground to a halt at the shocking revelation, the boy’s eyes sparkled. For a moment, it felt as though time had stopped.

Life only began to move again when the low hum of an engine in the distance caught the boy’s attention. A black sedan was crawling from the castle toward the mansion.

—It’s Eve…

The playful smile vanished from Tony’s face as hae muttered. He took on an anxious look and began biting his nails, as if he’d done something he was bound to get in trouble for.

Ethan grabbed the distracted boy’s shoulders and shook him. Eve or not, that wasn’t what mattered right now.

—What do you mean, my son is alive?

The boy’s gaze returned to him reluctantly. Only after Ethan pressed him further did he finally get an answer…

—Then what would you do?

It was merely a mischievous ‘what if’.

This brat—why is he playing with my head today? And me—what was I expecting? What would a nine-year-old know, someone who didn’t even know Eve and I had a child in the first place?

Feeling pathetic, Ethan quickened his pace again and took a jab at the culprit who had given him false hope.

—It could be a daughter. Why are you so sure it’s a son?