To My First Love, With Regret - 71

—…is what I wish.

Eve barely managed to swallow the confession, ‘I am your mother,’ which had surged to the back of her throat. A sense of despair, even greater than her relief, rushed in. She hated herself for having to deny the child’s wish right to his face.

Tony, why have you come to wish for such a thing? Why do you want me to be your mother, even though you have a mother who is supposedly always on your side?

Perhaps the child had felt it instinctively—that Chantal’s excessive love was entirely a sham.

Was that why he had fussed like a child who had nothing, despite growing up with everything he could want? Perhaps the soul of this child, starved of genuine love, had been weeping all along.

With that realization, Eve collapsed onto her knees before him. She pulled this tiny soul, who must have been crying alone all this time, into her embrace with all her heart. Her throat tightened as she fought back a sob, and she could only whisper the confession she had suppressed for so long.

—Tony, I want to be your mother, too.

My child wants me. That single fact gave meaning to all of Eve’s struggles. And so, Eve made a vow.

You are the only shining, pure love in my life. So for your sake, I can become anything, even if it isn’t my true self.

‘Eve… Eve really is my mommy.’

Tony was certain now. He wanted to shout and jump for joy, but he held it in. The mother holding him felt like a fragile, frightened little bird. He felt that if he caused a commotion now, this happiness—this warm embrace—would all fly away.

Instead, the child stayed still in her arms, holding his breath and staring at the window. He stole a glance at his mother’s reflection in the pitch-black glass. She looked pained, as if she might cry at any moment.

The woman the world knew as Tony’s mother never looked at him like that. She was always smiling, which had been comfortable at first, but eventually became unsettling. She was like a doll without a heart.

I knew she was a fake.

Why do I have to call a fake ‘Mommy’? Why can’t I call my real Mommy and Daddy by those names?

Countless incomprehensible questions swirled in his head, but Tony decided not to give them voice. He felt instinctively that this was a dangerous secret that must never be shared with anyone.

It had been the same moment just now, when he was about to ask, ‘Eve, you’re my mommy, right?’ The moment he saw her look of pure terror, he knew. He realized that the second he confessed to knowing her most terrifying secret, everything would shatter into pieces.

So, Tony chose to keep his mouth shut. It was frustrating, but he could endure it for everyone’s sake. However, there was one question he was too curious to suppress.

Does Daddy know I’m his son?

Why did Mommy give me to someone else? Did she throw me away because she hated me? Does she actually dislike me?

He still didn’t know why she had given her child to that wicked woman. But the pained expression Eve wore when she said she wanted to be his mother gave him an answer without needing words.

Mommy didn’t throw me away because she hated me.

Mommy loves me.

That alone was enough to make Tony endure everything else he disliked.

There was one more thing he discovered for the first time in his mother’s arms. When the heart is full, one becomes sleepy, just like being full after a meal.

Tony buried his face in her cozy embrace and closed his eyes.

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Whether by nature or nurture, Tony’s tenacity was undoubtedly inherited from his biological father. Ethan had been relentless ever since, showering Eve with every kind of subtle, artful temptation.

There were moments when the danger felt real—moments when she had to cling to the memory of the night he had coldly abandoned her just to steady her wavering resolve.

Yet, in a stroke of irony, the hero who saved Eve from the enemy trying to invade her bed was the enemy of the nation.

The dark premonition Eve had felt since the moment troops began gathering along the coastline became a reality toward the end of August. The enemy from the northern lands had launched an invasion through the southern seas.

By some miracle, Cliffhaven, situated at the southeastern tip, remained outside the enemy’s landing zone.

However, the war was by no means far away. The thunder of cannons from Wilmer’s Bay—the point of invasion—shook the very windows of Eve’s house. The western horizon was stained with flashes of light, and the charred fragments of sunken ships drifted all the way to the base of her cliffs.

Thanks to the fierce defense of the Mercian army, Cliffhaven had yet to suffer a single bombing, but grim rumors of enemy paratroopers accidentally dropping nearby kept everyone on edge.

The terror of war, which she had previously known only through news reports, was now felt against her skin. From that day on, Eve began transforming the manor into a fortress. Not content with merely tightening security, she ordered every window to be boarded up and nailed shut with plywood. Tony was forbidden from even stepping into the garden.

Since the day the enemy struck the coastline, the officers had not returned to their quarters at White Cliff Hall. Neither had Ethan.

From the first day of the invasion, Tony lived in front of the radio.

-Citizens, we bring you news of victory! At dawn today, the Constanza forces that dared to threaten our southern seas were crushed before the iron wall of our valiant Mercian army.

—Ethan must be out there fighting bravely, right?

-Even the enemy units that breached our coastal defenses to infiltrate inland have been completely surrounded and annihilated by our proud paratroopers descending from the sky.

—It must have been Ethan who dropped them!

In the child’s heart, Ethan Fairchild was an immortal war hero. But slowly, the boy was learning the ways of the adult world—the cruel reality that a hero’s name can be engraved not just on victory reports, but on the list of the fallen.

Every morning when he woke up, Tony’s first instinct was to check the morning paper to ensure Ethan’s name was not among the casualties.

Eve, too, sincerely hoped he would survive. However, because to her he was a cowardly traitor and not a hero, her prayers for him ended there.

May Ethan Fairchild survive unscathed and never return to White Cliff. Ever again.

Eve did not doubt that her prayer would be answered. Once the local enemy forces were repelled, the troops would surely be redeployed to the north, where they faced the border.

Of course, Tony didn’t know that yet. When that day came, he would be desperately sad. Even though the man was not worth grieving for.

May you never know that, either.

Eve offered one more prayer: that the inevitable parting would be nothing more than a natural growing pain for the child on his path to adulthood. And that it wouldn’t hurt too much.

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It was the third day since Eve had confined not just her heart, but her very body within the manor. This was the day the family physician was scheduled to deliver his regular report on Tony’s health check-up.

However, ever since the doctor had become Eve’s mole, that purpose had become a mere facade.

—Chantal has reached a point where she cannot sleep without sedatives.

Owen reported on Chantal’s movements first.

—I suppose Ethan Fairchild is the one keeping her up at night?

—That is the primary reason. She fears he will grow closer to you, My Lady, produce an heir, and seize control of the House….

—Ha….

Owen scrutinized the Lady’s face as she let out a dry laugh, searching for her true feelings.

—She’s dim-witted. Why would I want to attach another parasite to my own home?

He swallowed a sigh of relief and continued his report.

—The second reason is that Tony hasn’t been following Chantal’s lead lately.

—She must feel the ground crumbling beneath her feet. If she left on her own before being kicked out, she might at least avoid a pathetic scene.

—I’ve tried to maneuver things to make her leave of her own accord, but she doesn’t seem to have any intention of doing so yet.

Ousting Chantal would not have been difficult. Yet, it was an impossible move.

The woman was still the legal guardian of the Duke, who was a minor. Even more terrifying was the possibility that Chantal might choose self-destruction and expose the secret. Eve would survive somehow, but Tony would be stripped of his title and reduced to a mere bastard. She could not inflict such a cruel catastrophe upon the child.

Is this what it feels like to live with a tumor because removing it would mean certain death?

—Soothe her. Tell her Tony is just going through a rebellious phase, and if she continues to treat him as well as always, he’ll come around eventually.

It seemed Tony’s heart had already turned away from his ‘mother,’ but it was better to placate Chantal; otherwise, she might do something even more harmful to the boy in an attempt to win him back.

—Of course. Trust only in me, My Lady.

Owen gazed intently at Eve. Like a dog faithful to its orders, he was begging for his master’s praise.

—You’re doing well.

She tapped the back of his hand lightly, as if truly handling a dog. In that fleeting moment, Owen seized Eve’s wrist. To dare touch his master’s body without permission was a bold transgression.