EYRCRM 01

Chapter 1

“Why are you suddenly giving me money?”

Her hollow question lingered in the air.
Those in the bedroom only looked at Irene with pity and sympathy.

“And what is this divorce agreement supposed to mean? It’s not like I’m going to lose my hearing forever.”

Irene forced a smile.
Unlike her calm expression, the hand clutching the envelope trembled faintly.

Her wavering blue eyes soon fixed on one person—
bright golden hair and warm green eyes.
Once her childhood friend and partner in a political marriage—Enzo Fredman.

“Enzo. Do you really think I won’t be able to hear ever again?”

Irene tightened her grip on the envelope. Her knuckles turned white, yet she maintained her smile.

“Say something. No—write something to me, at least. Why is no one telling me anything? I’ll get better soon, right? Right?”

In the end, Enzo avoided her gaze.
Instead, someone else stepped forward.

It was Count Fredman, Enzo’s father.

“My child. We intended to proceed with the divorce after you had recovered, but circumstances didn’t allow it.”

“I don’t understand what you mean. Here—paper and pen. Please tell me what’s going on. I’m begging you.”

The paper she handed over was so crumpled it was almost worn thin.
Count Fredman accepted it, wrote a short sentence, and returned it.

[They say there is no chance your hearing will recover. This is a decision for everyone’s sake—please understand.]

At last, the truth filled her eyes with shock.

“…No.”

Irene’s voice cracked miserably.

“No. That can’t be true. No—no!”

She shook her head repeatedly, denying reality.
Enzo, who had been watching her, squeezed his eyes shut and turned away.

“Father, let’s go.”

Left alone in the bedroom, Irene finally broke into tears.

Her cries—like the wail of a wounded beast—echoed through the empty corridor for a long time.

“Everyone said the two of you were so close—it’s wonderful to see your love finally bear fruit.”

“I always knew you two would get married. Congratulations, Lady Whitfield—no, I should say Mrs. Fredman now.”

It was a marriage everyone had expected.
Flawless. Inevitable.

Irene had never regretted accepting Enzo’s proposal.
Being by his side had always made her happy—full of laughter.

If this marriage meant she could keep those joyful moments forever, that was enough.

“Irene. I’ll make you happy for the rest of your life. I love you.”

On their wedding day, Enzo had sworn his love with unwavering eyes.
Seeing that gaze, Irene had changed her mind.

Maybe… I can love you not as a childhood friend, but as a man.

She imagined a future with him.
It was the first time she had ever done so—and it felt strangely new.

Sadly, it was nothing more than a futile illusion.

It happened just as she had finished preparing herself as a bride for their first night.

A sudden wave of dizziness and ringing in her ears overwhelmed her.
By the time she regained her senses, something felt wrong.

The small, ordinary sounds of life had vanished.

Enzo—who had somehow arrived—was holding her shoulders and saying something,
but she couldn’t hear a single word.

She wished it were a dream.
She hoped it was a joke.

But reality was far more cruel.

In the end, she lost her hearing.
And in just two days, she was sent back to the Whitfield estate—almost as if she had been chased out.

Not as a bride, but as a patient.
And worse—as a divorcée.

She didn’t even want to remember what came after.
Each day had been unbearable.

There were times she thought it might be better to lose her mind entirely.

With the help of her nanny, Mrs. Devitt, she refused to give up on treatment.
Eventually, her hearing in her left ear miraculously returned.

But that was all.

There was no further improvement.

“Irene, there you are.”

A familiar voice called from afar.
Instinctively, Irene turned to her left—then froze.

There was no one there.

Even after three months, she still couldn’t determine where sounds were coming from.

The realization clawed at her chest once again.
It meant her right ear had not recovered.

Noticing her expression, Mrs. Devitt spoke carefully.

“Your right ear will recover soon as well. The physician said we should keep observing your progress.”

“Thank you for worrying about me, but it’s already been over three months.”

“But you recovered hearing in your left ear, didn’t you? So surely the other side will—”

“Nanny.”

Irene cut her off firmly.

“I don’t want to hold on to false hope anymore.”

The marriage she had chosen for happiness had become her misfortune.

And what about Enzo, whom she had known for ten years?
Their relationship had become worse than before.

The childhood friend who had once been by her side in difficult times hadn’t contacted her even once.

All of this had happened in a single day.

Even so, she had not given up hope.

One day, my hearing will return completely.
Enzo will contact me.
I can be happy again.

But none of it came true.

Those meaningless hopes only ate away at her heart.
Expectations brought nothing but disappointment.

Now, the only things she could rely on were her father, her nanny—and her work.

Irene gathered the documents on the table and stood up.
They were quarterly hotel income reports she had organized over the past few days to shake off her helplessness.

“Nanny, do you think Father has gone out?”

“As a matter of fact, the Duke sent for you.”

“Really?”

A rare brightness appeared on Irene’s face.

In the past two months, this was the first time her father had called for her.

She had felt hurt, but she understood.
With her stepping away from helping with the Whitfield family’s hotel business, the workload must have increased.

“Yes, truly. He asked you to come to the Cyprine Hotel. Perhaps he was concerned that you’ve been staying in the estate all day.”

“I should go get ready right away.”

Irene hurried off.
Her long golden hair, braided neatly, swayed with each step.

Watching her livelier 모습 for the first time in a while, Mrs. Devitt smiled faintly.

The Cyprine Hotel, with its spring garden, was more beautiful than ever.

Walking through it, Irene felt a strange sense of nostalgia.

Spring had returned.

The garden she had personally designed—reminiscent of the southern region she loved—welcomed the season.

Around this time every year, Irene used to spend her days here.
Though she had been unable to visit recently, it was still a place filled with fond memories.

“I’ve been hearing nothing but praise about the spring at Cyprine Hotel.”

A satisfied smile formed on the Duke of Whitfield’s lips.
His blue eyes—so much like hers—softened.

Irene looked at him, feeling oddly unfamiliar.

It had been a long time since she’d seen her father smile.

“They say it feels like visiting a southern resort. Reservations have been fully booked for half a year. Irene, it’s all thanks to you.”

Even his quiet praise felt unfamiliar.

She suddenly recalled the last time she had seen him.

Two months ago, when her hearing in her left ear had finally returned.
Her father—who had never once visited—had come to see her for the first time.

She still remembered his expression vividly.

A stiff mouth. Cold eyes. A trace of annoyance.

Completely different from how he usually was.

He had said very little.
Just one sentence: Recover quickly.

Even though she had miraculously regained hearing in one ear, she couldn’t feel happy.

She had been afraid he might abandon her.

But perhaps… it had all been unnecessary worry.

Relaxing slightly, Irene smiled.

“It’s thanks to your support, Father. I couldn’t have created this garden on my own.”

“You don’t need to be modest when praised, child.”

“I remember. You said modesty can become a tool others use against you, didn’t you?”

“As expected, you never forget what you’re taught. It seems you take after me.”

The Duke laughed heartily—a familiar, pleasant sound.

It felt peaceful. Comfortable.

So much so that the sudden misfortune almost felt like a dream.

Like every year, she had come to the spring garden and shared a warm conversation with her father.

A life unchanged.

Maybe… just maybe… I can still live like this.

“How have you been lately? I hear your right ear still hasn’t recovered. Any signs of improvement? You can’t go on like this forever.”

His casual question pulled her back to reality.

It was like being doused in cold water.

There was no way her life could be the same as before.

Too much had changed.

Even a glance at newspapers and magazines made it clear.

An adulteress. A divorcée. A shameless woman.
The name Irene Whitfield was covered in countless labels.

She lowered her head, then lifted it again—enough time to steady her emotions.

“I’ve been continuing treatment, but there hasn’t been much progress.”

“I see. Treatment is important, but… I worry you’ll be deeply disappointed if you don’t recover. Before it’s too late, why not try changing your daily routine?”

“I’ve been spending my time working on documents lately.”

“That’s not enough. Irene, you used to take initiative in everything. But now… it feels like you’re avoiding everything.”

His words pierced deep into her chest.

She couldn’t respond and bit her lip.

He was right.

She had buried herself in work to avoid pain—to escape her misfortune.

If she truly wanted to move forward, something had to change.

But she didn’t know how.
She didn’t know what could bring that change.

Her mind felt completely blank.

“Irene. If you’re willing, I would like to help you.”

The Duke took her hand.
Warmth spread through her skin.

“There is someone who wishes to meet you. Would you like to speak with him?”