Chapter 9
“Zaka! Hide me!”
I burst into Zaka’s room without knocking.
He turned from the drawer with a sigh.
“Again?”
“Julie is coming!”
Zaka sighed once more, but neatly lifted his bed sheets for me.
I shoved my precious bottles of liquor underneath.
Then I pulled open his closet wide.
“I’ll hide in here.”
“…Don’t you think you should ask before opening it yourself?”
Crouching under the pile of clothes, I waved at him.
Close the door!
Looking at me like I was pathetic, Zaka silently shut the closet.
From the hallway came the sound of running feet, and Julie’s muffled voice.
“Baroness Asha! If I catch you, I’ll take away every drop of liquor, you hear me!”
Holding my breath in the dark, I smelled faintly of Zaka.
It must’ve been because I was surrounded by his clothes.
I pulled out the brandy bottle I had tucked into my chest.
Gulp, gulp.
The liquid slid down my throat—divine.
With a tipsy sigh, I leaned my head against the closet wall.
Julie had found my hidden bottles faster than I expected.
I hadn’t even finished one.
I’d better drink this now before it’s taken too.
But while I was drinking—
Someone shook my shoulder awake.
I blinked. Outside, it was already dark.
And Zaka was staring down at me with an exasperated face.
“Uhh?”
“‘Uhh?’ You’ve been in there this whole time? What are you, a mole?”
“Don’t insult moles.”
“….”
Zaka chuckled and held out his hand.
Naturally, I took it and stood, groaning.
“…My legs are numb.”
“Of course they are. You were in there all day…”
His eyes drifted to the empty closet.
“You were drinking in there?”
“…Now your clothes must smell like it.”
I gave him a sheepish smile. He sighed.
“Though… maybe not too much.”
Standing beside him as he tidied the closet, I muttered,
“It smelled more like you than liquor in there.”
Zaka froze.
“And I didn’t spill a drop while drinking!”
He turned back to me.
“I smell, do I?”
“Mm? Yeah. A good smell.”
Zaka stepped closer.
“Even now?”
The tip of his shoe bumped my foot.
“Do I smell like that right now?”
The room was dim, only lit faintly by moonlight.
I tilted my chin up to meet his gaze, then leaned toward his chest uncertainly.
“….”
His Adam’s apple bobbed.
“I think so,” I said casually, pulling back.
He stared, then laughed in disbelief.
“Why do you act like this when you’ve been in love before?”
“…That’s not a topic I enjoy, so keep that in mind.”
I answered primly. His smile faded.
His gaze warmed, then cooled with something else.
“You said you liked gardens, right?”
“Did I?”
“Anyway, you did. Didn’t you?”
“Well, I guess so.”
“Then why is this one such a mess?”
“There are… adult reasons. Complicated things. Dangerous if you know.”
“As if you’re so much older. You’re just a little older than me.”
“Hey, I’m five years older than you.”
“Come here.”
Ignoring me, Zaka walked to the window.
“What is it?”
I followed.
He threw open the window and stepped aside.
“…You’re not going to push me, are you?”
“Don’t even joke like that. It’s not funny.”
He leaned against the window frame.
I stepped closer, awkward.
“What am I supposed to—”
And I lost my words.
It wasn’t the same view as before.
The crumbling obelisk had been replaced, new vines climbing.
The paths were neat, freshly laid with clean soil.
The dying plants had been cleared, stakes propping the healthy ones.
Fresh flowers swayed in groups in the breeze.
The pond, once full of trash, shone clean.
Trees were pruned, their shapes elegant.
The outdoor canopy by the lake glowed blue in the moonlight.
The garden was alive again.
I was stunned.
I knew I should thank him. Tell him he did well. Ask if this was why he’d been so busy.
But my tongue wouldn’t move.
A sweet olive tree caught my eye.
In autumn, its golden blossoms would be breathtaking.
I remembered the happiness I once had beneath it.
I want to be your family.
Asha, will you allow it?
“Baroness?”
The sobering feeling wasn’t pleasant.
The clearer my mind, the sharper the memories.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay? Do you feel sick?”
Zaka’s worried voice pressed me, but I stayed silent.
He turned me by the shoulder, forcing me to face him.
Gray eyes shone in the moonlight.
“Baroness.”
In a trembling voice, I finally said,
“Thank you. The garden… it’s completely different. You did well.”
“I asked if you’re okay.”
“…But you—”
“I only worked, that’s all.”
He smiled faintly, muttering,
“No wonder you just stared with a strange look while I tore it up.”
I lowered my eyes—then saw something odd.
From his closed drawer poked a familiar ribbon.
My hair ribbon.
The one I thought I had thrown away.
I remembered—when I barged in earlier, he had been standing by that drawer.
Had I heard it shut?
A chill ran through me.
Questions rose sharply in my mind.
Why had Zaka revived this garden?
Why choose to work here, of all places?
And that day—
Why had he spoken to me first?
“Zaka.”
“If you don’t like it, I’ll put the garden back the way it was—”
“Do you like me?”
“….”
His mouth closed.
And in that silence, I saw the answer.
“Why ask that now?”
His voice was suddenly low.
“Is it true?”
“What if it is?”
I shook my head.
“…You can’t.”
Zaka gave a low, rough laugh. Almost a growl.
“Why not?”
“You’re still young.”
“So what? You and I are both adults.”
“And besides—”
“Stop looking for excuses. Answer me properly.”
His voice was unfamiliar.
But I had another thought.
“You didn’t quit your job because of me, did you?”
“Hah.”
With a short, bitter breath, he stepped closer.
I stumbled back and fell onto the soft bed.
Zaka knelt before me, hands on either side of the mattress.
The bed sank under his weight.
“If I said yes—would you take responsibility for me?”
“….”
“You wouldn’t. So why ask?”
His hair glimmered coldly in the moonlight. His eyes, too.
“I won’t ask you to take responsibility.”
“….”
“So then…”
He leaned closer, slow.
The mattress pressed under him. His thigh brushed mine.
“Why not play with me, just once?”
His deep, husky voice whispered so close it tickled my ear.
His hair brushed my forehead.
His face was only inches away.
It felt strangely familiar.
“…Play?”
“Yes. No one has to know.”
Our shoulders touched.
“So… just a little.”
I could feel his body.
Harder than I’d thought. Hotter than I’d expected.
And then—
I tensed, shoving him away.
He yielded easily, but his gaze never left me.
“Why? It’s not like you hate it.”
“How do you know that?”
“I can see it. I’ve only ever watched you.”
His voice cracked at the end.
I could hear his rough breath, the restraint holding him back.
Desire and reason, battling inside him.
It was raw yearning.
I knew—if I didn’t leave now, I’d stay.
I looked at Zaka.
And in that short glance, he read my decision.
His eyes dimmed, but he hid it.
Then his face shifted to surprise.
“Why…”
Following his gaze, I touched my cheek.
Wet.
“…Ah.”
Tears blurred my vision.
Drops fell onto my lap.
“Why… why are you crying? Is it me? Is it my fault?”
Zaka panicked, fumbling, so unlike him.
“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. Please…”
But I didn’t even know why I was crying.
Maybe it was frustration.
Doubting someone’s heart is wrong—yet…
From the moment he admitted his feelings, I had never once believed him.
Not truly.
Because maybe, just maybe, like someone long ago…
His heart was a lie.
Until I could be sure, I couldn’t trust anyone’s love.
Kneeling before me, Zaka clutched the bed frame, pleading.
“Please, don’t cry. It’s my fault. I’m sorry, alright?”
His desperate voice echoed in my ears.
And I realized, with despair—
The scars from that man were still carved into me.
