To My First Love, With Regret - 114

—It was a ‘what if’! I never said I was sure!

The boy had simply thought of a son because he was a boy himself. In truth, Ethan had done the same.

—Well… if my son were miraculously alive somewhere….

Imagining a scenario that could never be reality was no different from self-harm, but in a way, it was a sweet reprieve.

Even if it was a lie, within the confines of his imagination, he wasn’t the sinner who killed his child, but a father who protected them. And so, knowing full well the withdrawal that would follow, Ethan willingly stepped into that fleeting peace as if succumbing to drink.

If they are just alive, I will find them. Even if I have to scour the ends of the earth.

Should that child return to his arms, he would ensure they enjoyed only the finest things the world had to offer, until the deprivations of the past years were nothing but a forgotten dream.

Above all else, he would do whatever it took to restore the child to their rightful place. To the position of the legitimate heir of Lady Evelyn of Kentrell and Ethan Fairchild.

Starting with that, he would scrape together every single thing a child could possibly possess and pile it into those small arms.

Everything, including all of that.

Ethan greedily took in the sight of Kentrell Castle standing tall on the distant hill and the vast estate sprawling beneath it.

—Tony.

—Yeah?

—If my son were alive… you wouldn’t want to know the things I’d do.

Ethan grinned, baring his teeth slightly. At that wicked smile—one that belonged to a devil in a fairy tale—a chill raced down the nape of Tony’s neck. Only then did he remember a fact he had somehow managed to completely forget.

That’s right. Ethan was a terrifying villain.

Tony didn’t know exactly what the man intended to do, but he could feel it instinctively. He was planning to do something very, very bad.

No way… do I have to follow Dad and become a gang leader too?

Tony conjured the worst imagination he could manage and looked like he was about to cry.

I don’t want that…. I’m a righteous detective.

Just moments ago, seeing how sad Ethan looked while mistakenly believing his child was dead, Tony had wanted to speak the truth.

It’s me. I’m Ethan’s son.

But he had stopped himself for fear of being scolded by Eve.

Why did Mom lie to Dad and say I was dead?

He had been curious, but now he thought he understood why. Eve loathed villains like Harry. Perhaps that was why she broke up with Ethan and kept Tony hidden away. She was afraid Tony would follow his father and become a villain, too.

Struck by this realization, the boy was seized with sudden fear. Not only did he press his lips together in a grim line, but he clamped his small hands over his mouth, making a firm resolve.

I don’t want anything bad to happen to me, or to Mom.

So I’m never saying it again. I’ll take this secret to my grave.

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Knock, knock.

What pulled Eve from her sleep was the sound of cautious tapping on the door.

—Eve. Eve.

Then came Tony’s frantic, excited whispering from outside.

—It’s morning.

Eve believed him and lifted her eyelids. However, the world visible through the gaps in the curtains was still submerged in the dark blue light of early dawn.

For a child who usually required a maid to pat his backside just to get him out of bed, there was only one magic in the world that could make his eyes snap open at such an hour—the magic that happened just once a year.

—Santa left presents. Let’s open them together.

Christmas.

When she rose and opened the door, Tony stood there, still in his pajamas, his eyes shining like morning stars.

—Hurry.

So saying, he unceremoniously grabbed the hand of Eve—who was likewise still in her nightclothes—and pulled. Seeing the joy on the child’s face, Eve felt her own spirits lift; she swallowed her sleepiness and followed him obediently.

She assumed he was only thinking of rushing to the second-floor parlor, but the boy came to a sudden halt in front of a specific room. As his small hand reached out to knock, Eve gasped and quickly caught it. Tony blinked at her, looking utterly confused.

—Why? I want to show Ethan, too.

—It’s rude to wake someone who is sleep…..

—I’m not sleeping.

The door swung open, and Ethan stepped out, sliding his arms into the sleeves of a shirt. From the disheveled, handsome man—looking as though he had spent a night of total excess—wafted nothing but the sharp scent of whiskey.

There was no scent of a strange woman mixed in. Eve frowned at herself; she had never once detected the trace of another woman, and it was none of her business anyway, yet she found herself trying to confirm it every single time.

No. I’m only checking because I hope he meets someone else. That’s the only way I’ll be truly free.

As they walked with Tony between them, Eve shot a cold glare at the man as he slowly fastened his shirt buttons.

Go home already.

There was nothing left for him to gain here, so why on earth was he still loitering in someone else’s house? She had dreamed of a first Christmas alone with Tony, finally free of those loathsome parasites, but Ethan had barged in and usurped it.

—Merry Christmas, Your Grace.

A large hand roughly ruffled the child’s already messy hair.

—Oh, right! Merry Christmas, Ethan! Merry Christmas, Eve!

Good grief. Now he had even stolen the first Christmas greeting.

Eve glared at him fiercely, but the thief offered her a wicked, shimmering smile and delivered a shameless greeting of his own.

—Merry Christmas, my Lady—looking damnably beautiful even with sleep in your eyes.

Ethan draped a heavy arm over Eve’s shoulder and leaned his head toward her cheek as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

What exactly is natural about this?

She had assumed he would turn his back on her coldly, now that she was no longer a useful tool for his revenge. Instead, he had become more persistent, more clinging than ever before.

He even tried his hardest to climb into Eve’s bed every single night. It was all the more baffling because he wasn’t trying to satisfy some lust; he claimed he simply wanted to lie beside her and fall asleep together.

Like a poor couple back in Montfleur, who only had one bed to share.

Hah… we can never go back to being like that. Why is he acting this way?

The lie had been intended to drive him mad, but she hadn’t calculated on him losing his mind in this particular fashion. Eve twisted her body away just before his lips could graze her cheek. In that instant, Ethan stumbled backward—even though Eve hadn’t even touched him.

—Eve said she doesn’t like it.

The culprit was Tony. The boy had shoved him with all his might, scolding him firmly.

—If you do it even when someone says no, you’re a bad person.

—I wonder why a thirty-year-old man doesn’t know what even a nine-year-old understands.

While Eve clicked her tongue in satisfaction, Ethan looked down at Tony—who was standing guard over Eve—with the eyes of a man betrayed by someone he deeply trusted.

—Kid, you’re supposed to be on my side.

—Why?

The child didn’t even sound argumentative; he was asking because he truly didn’t know the reason. Ethan, seemingly choked up by that innocent, guileless question, let out nothing but a short, hollow laugh.

Of course you have nothing to say. Did you give birth to him? Did you raise him? You, who haven’t been by his side all this time.

Eve snorted at him and proudly pulled Tony close, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. However, her victory was short-lived.

Just as she was leading the boy into the living room to show him off, Ethan, following behind, exposed the reality of that betrayal.

—Anthony Sherwood, didn’t you tell me to marry your sister?

—…What?

Did you really say that? As Eve looked down at Tony in shock, a memory flashed through her mind. A day after the notification of Owen’s death had arrived, the boy had suddenly asked:

—Eve, is the marriage with Dr. Kallas over now? Then are you going to marry Ethan?

Why on earth did his logic lead there?

At the time, she had simply thought the child was being eccentric. She hadn’t known the two of them were making some sort of deal behind her back.

—You even promised that you’d hold Eve’s hand at the wedding and walk her down the aisle to give her to me.

—…….

—No, well… that is….

Tony flustered, turning pale. For a child who would usually throw a fit of denial if he weren’t guilty, he was now rolling his eyes like a caught puppy, gauging Eve’s reaction. Their secret conspiracy was the truth.

—You said no other guy was allowed, but that you’d give me special permission. Did you change your mind already?

Yes, please change your mind, sweetheart. Take this chance to say the promise is void.

—Who’s the other guy you’ve swapped me for? Tell me.

Eve knit her brows and glared at Ethan.

—What are you saying to a child….

The lack of manners extended to the child as well. Tony, turning pale for a different reason, cut Eve off abruptly.

—No! No other guy is allowed!

—Anthony Sherwood, don’t use such filthy language.

At Eve’s frost-sharp scolding, the boy clamped his mouth shut like a startled clam. Her piercing gaze then shifted to the culprit who had taught the child such dirty words.

—The same goes for you. Ethan Fairchild, watch your mouth in front of the kid.

They were being scolded side-by-side. The child hung his head gloomily, but the adult had a smile on his face as if something were incredibly amusing.

Yet, the smile was only on his lips. Within his eyes—dull like a cloud-covered sky—a heavy, dark shadow had settled.

It was as if he were merely imitating the man he used to be before he had been shattered into pieces.