To My First Love, With Regret - 62

“I am still a difficult person for that child.”

Eve took off her shoes and stepped slowly into the cold water. Dipping her hand beside his small one, she broke the surface of the water—a surface that resembled the invisible wall between them. And so, Eve splashed him first, her movements awkward as if it were the first time she had ever done such a thing, while the boy watched her with wide, startled eyes.

Caught completely off guard by the attack, Tony looked like a drenched puppy. He froze in surprise for a moment, then burst into a bright laugh that seemed to melt like ice under the sun. This time, without a hint of hesitation, he scooped up a spray of water with both hands and paid her back in kind.

—Surrender! Huh? A plane!

But the boy’s attention was far too easily diverted. What defeated Eve this time and stole the child’s heart was a seaplane, cutting through the sky and landing upon the sea. Tony watched, mesmerized, then tugged at Eve’s sleeve with his wet hand.

—Eve, buy me a seaplane for Christmas.

A plane, when they were in a position where they had to sell their existing yacht. Of course, once she got the money back from Owen, she might actually be able to afford it.

—But no planes.

—Why?

—Because you mustn’t get hurt. You can’t even receive a blood transfusion.

—Tch, then why don’t you just say no cars, either?

His point was logical, but her heart sang a different tune. By nature, the protective instinct is the emotion furthest removed from reason.

Even after the seaplane took off and vanished, the child’s heart did not return to Eve. From a few paces away, he began to silently watch a group of children his age trying to skip stones. His eyes said he wanted to join them.

Eve led Tony toward the children, watched the game for a moment, and then asked:

—How do you do that?

When they first approached, the children had only glanced at them. But perhaps seeing her applaud every time a stone successfully skipped broke down their guard; they began to chatter and explain all at once. Of course, Eve had no intention of actually learning.

—Can you teach Tony, too?

Eve gave Tony’s back a light nudge as he stood there silently. To adults, he was a little tyrant, but he was a timid child who didn’t know how to mingle with his own peers.

Eve had whispered a warning to him beforehand: Don’t try to rule over the children like a Duke; be kind. She wondered if he could actually do it.

But her worries were unfounded; Tony blended into the group with ease. For once, Eve didn’t feel the bittersweet pang of having the child «stolen» from her.

This is how he should be living.

Suddenly, she wondered if the path she was on was the wrong one.

Should I send him back to school?

But he was at the age for boarding school now. Girls’ schools had felt like hell to Eve; a boys’ school, where only the law of the jungle existed, would be worse. Could that fragile child survive among the strong?

In the end, she stopped dwelling on a future with no right answer. Eve sat on the pebble beach and etched this rare moment of her son’s normalcy into her heart.

It was a sweltering day. She noticed the children’s faces, flushed red by the sun. Tony would become pale if he played any longer; she had to make him rest.

Eve headed toward the café. Ordering ice cream for all the children, Eve began to secretly enjoy the feeling of being an ordinary mother.

—I told you not to!

But that brief peace was shattered by a sharp scream.

When Eve turned her head, the «ordinary child» she had so desperately hoped for was nowhere to be seen. In his place stood only a little tyrant, throwing a rage-filled punch into his friend’s face.

—Tony!

In her son’s small fist, she saw someone else. The Sherwoods and the Fairchilds—which side of the madness had this child inherited? Whichever it was, it was clear that this sprout had to be cut down immediately.

—Stop this instant!

She ran toward the child, but the shifting pebbles caught her ankles and slowed her pace. Meanwhile, Tony was mounted on top of the fallen boy, still swinging his fists. Eve screamed desperately.

—Anthony Sherwood! What is wrong with you! What on earth is your problem? Is it your dream to follow that man and become a thug?

At that moment, Tony stopped his fists and bolted upright. He breathed heavily with indignation through his bloodless lips, staring straight at Eve. His dry eyes filled with tears in an instant.

—What is wrong with you, Eve! Why do you always take everyone else’s side? Why do you always think I’m a bad kid?

As Tony’s aggrieved cry ended, the other terrified children began to speak up haltingly.

—Tony was trying to stop Billy….

—Billy bullied Jinny first!

The truth was different from Eve’s imagination. The boy who got hit had pushed a girl into the water because she had beaten him in the stone-skipping contest, and Tony had gotten into a fight while trying to stop him.

In an instant, Eve’s face flushed as if burned. A little tyrant. Was she not the «bad» one for labeling and cornering the child like that?

Even so, there was something she had to do before lecturing him that violence was not the answer. Without hesitation, Eve knelt before Tony. Matching her gaze with the child’s wounded eyes, she apologized sincerely.

—Tony, I’m sorry for assuming it was your fault.

Eve reached out to wipe away the tear hanging precariously from the child’s long lashes and tried to pull his small shoulders into an embrace. But Tony pushed her away. It was a cold rejection, unlike the child who, moments ago, had been sobbing for her to understand him.

—You don’t have to pretend to be sorry. I know. You hate me, Eve. You hate me because I’m the son of the woman you hate.

Tony walked past her alone. Eve couldn’t catch him. She stood frozen, as if her heart had been pierced through the center.

Yes, that’s right. You are the son of the woman I hate.

The woman who had forgotten how to love amidst her hatred could not even deceive the pure eyes of a child who couldn’t possibly know the truth.

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Even so, I am an adult. An adult.

Even if my emotions are still frozen at the age of nineteen, wounded and scarred.

Eve barely managed to gather her crumbling reason to soothe Tony and send him inside. As soon as he was safe, she headed back toward the beach.

Her destination this time was Hotel La Mer. Without stopping at the front desk, she went straight to the elevator and got off at the top floor. Reaching the last room at the end of the hallway, Eve pulled a key from her handbag and opened the door.

The familiar scent of turpentine greeted her. Only after inhaling that pungent aroma deeply did she finally feel as though she could breathe. Surrounded by the silent comfort of the room, Eve finally removed her mask.

The room was as cluttered as her inner self. Leaning against the walls were canvases upon which emotions she could never put into words were recorded in violent, vivid colors.

Eve passed these unfinished diaries and stood before the easel in the center of the room. The blank canvas, having heard no confessions yet, stared at her intently. She collapsed before it and poured out the emotions that filled her chest.

—Ha…. I suppose this role isn’t for me.

The weight of the ill-fitting mask was too much to bear. A «Queen»? Hardly. Leading a life of self-desecration, acting out every single moment—she felt far more like a clown.

Eve swallowed her tears and looked up. The sky, formless and boundless, was trapped in the square frame of the window.

At that moment, a single seagull boldly crossed the blue canvas of the sky that had seemed frozen forever. The bird didn’t hit the frame and fall back into the picture; it simply glided past the edges and vanished without a trace.

When will I ever be able to escape the cage I locked myself in and fly beyond the boundaries?

Sobbing, Eve picked up her brush. Today, as she did every day to keep from going mad, she hid behind a pseudonym to deliver her most shameful confessions.

By the time Eve had shed the weight of her emotions and was ready to put the heavy mask back on, the night was already deep.

It was as she locked the door to the studio and reached the hotel lobby.

—Lady Evelyn, you’re late. Shall we head up to the room before our secret rendezvous is discovered?

The voice of the man she least wanted to encounter right now caught her by the ankles. The moment she turned around, Ethan Fairchild, who had been stepping out of a telephone booth in the corner, tossed her a wicked wink.

Eve momentarily stopped breathing. It was hard to believe that this relaxed, smiling face was the same one that, only a few days ago, had been twisted with a total loss of composure and absolute rage.

How can he look at me and smile like that?

As if he had forgotten everything.

Suddenly, she felt pathetic for being the only one still floundering in the storm of that day.

But that wasn’t the only reason facing Ethan Fairchild was so unpleasant.