Chapter 62
When she was trembling in fear, the curtain moved—signaling the end of the event. They were heading back toward the tram garage.
But suddenly, Scarlett felt stifled and terrified at being unable to see her surroundings. Her breathing grew quick and shallow.
Just then, Isaac stepped into the curtained space.
“Scarlett.”
“Isaac?”
Isaac quickly sat down in front of her.
“I heard you groaning.”
At his words, Scarlett hastily threw her arms around his neck.
“What do I do…”
“W–what’s wrong?”
“I really… really think I’ve lost my mind. What do I do… I can’t remember anything. Everything slips away. It’s so… so terrifying…”
Her sobs made Isaac wrap his trembling arms around her.
Moments later, the mechanism came to a halt. Isaac hurried to help Scarlett up, leading her out. The waiting drivers looked startled.
“M–Miss! What happened?”
“Was it because it was too dark?”
Scarlett shook her head. She forced a smile, but her mind was still completely blank.
Late that night, when she arrived at the Dumfelt estate, Blight greeted her warmly.
“It’s quite late.”
From this alone, Scarlett knew that what she had overheard earlier was true.
Even though she had shown up unannounced after their divorce, he did not question her reasons. And unlike after the divorce, when he had always called her “Miss,” he didn’t use that title now.
In a trembling voice, Scarlett asked:
“My husband…?”
“He won’t be asleep yet.”
Scarlett nodded and climbed the stairs. She stood in front of his room door for a long time before finally knocking.
“Viktor.”
Soon, Viktor opened the door. He stared at her for a long moment before asking:
“Scarlett.”
“Yes?”
“Do you love me?”
“…What?”
Scarlett was about to ask why that was his first question, but then she remembered—Viktor had asked her the same thing not long ago.
Smiling faintly, Viktor said:
“What’s the matter? Do you need something?”
“….”
“It’s not exactly proper to keep showing up like this when we’re divorced.”
Before he even finished, Scarlett threw her arms around him.
“That’s the difference, isn’t it? Between whether I’ve forgotten the divorce… or not.”
“….”
“Right?”
“How did you know?”
“I overheard people talking on the street.”
“I see.”
Viktor answered calmly.
Scarlett held him for a while longer, then lifted her head.
“Viktor. I resented you so much for sending me to the convent… but you were right.”
“….”
“I’m not in my right mind. Who forgets their own divorce and comes running back to their ex-husband?”
She struggled to breathe as she spoke.
“Help me, Viktor. Please help me…”
At her plea, Viktor silently held her tight. Scarlett breathed out a shuddering sigh of relief in his safe embrace, where nothing could threaten her.
Her breathing slowly steadied. She looked up at him, reaching for his neck. Viktor bent down to meet her—but when she tried to kiss him, he turned his head away.
Scarlett’s face crumpled with hurt.
“You don’t want to?”
“No.”
“But you don’t mind sleeping with me.”
“Think carefully about what you’re saying right now.”
“Switch it. What you want from me and what I want from you. Help me. If I… if I forget again and come back to you… if I act strangely, stop me. Lock me away if you must.”
Viktor studied her desperate face in silence. After a long pause, he finally spoke.
“I’ll help you. Don’t worry. Every time you come to me, I’ll write down exactly what you did while you couldn’t remember.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Relieved by his firm answer, Scarlett began to calm down. She was about to step back, but Viktor caught her arm and pulled her back into his embrace.
Startled, she looked up into his eyes as he lifted her chin with his other hand.
“But Scarlett,” he asked softly, “do you trust me?”
She nodded.
“You’re rational.”
“You said I was selfish.”
“Yes.”
She nodded again.
“You’re both.”
“You’d hand yourself over to me while you’re not in your right mind… knowing I could do anything to you?”
“As long as you’re not a pirate… I don’t think you’d hurt me.”
“I could seduce you while you’ve forgotten the divorce and sleep with you.”
“That wouldn’t be your fault.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s always been me who was desperate.”
Scarlett gave a tired smile, her tension easing.
“I was always the one running to you, begging you to hold me. So if I forget we’re divorced and end up in bed with you, it’ll be my fault. I’m sure of it.”
Viktor gave an unreadable laugh. Closing the door, he wrapped one arm around her, caressing her cheek.
“Why don’t you just live here? If you’re so uneasy.”
“Ah…”
“I told you—I liked it when we lived together.”
“….”
“And I was right, wasn’t I? About sending you to the convent. If I wasn’t wrong, then there was no reason for us to divorce in the first place.”
Only his fingertips betrayed that he was once a man of the battlefield. Unlike the smooth, pale surface of his hand, the tips were rough and calloused. When those fingertips lifted her chin, Scarlett raised her eyes to him again.
“Hmm? Scarlett.”
“I’ll… think about it.”
Yes, this was how it felt.
Viktor’s touch made her recall their time together.
He had never treated her sweetly, yet she had always found every moment with him sweet. Simply being with him had once made everything in the world feel sweet.
Now, believing herself to be going mad, the thought of what she might do terrified her. That made Viktor’s suggestion sound all the more enticing.
But once the sweetness faded, the emptiness she had felt for two years lingered bitter on her tongue. He was perfect, and she was endlessly lacking—that one truth was the hole in her heart through which all her happiness drained away.
She had forced her love upon him, shackled his ankles, and made him sit within reach of his lifelong dream before finally leaving him.
She had cried silently until she collapsed from exhaustion. Viktor had carried her, staggering, to the bed and laid her down. But when she still trembled and couldn’t calm, he finally resorted to the thing he always relied on—alcohol.
Viktor handed her a glass. Scarlett took it with both hands.
“Alcohol?”
“Drink and sleep long.”
She nodded and, as he instructed, downed the strong liquor in one gulp. She winced as it burned her throat.
“So strong.”
“I know.”
Viktor set the glass on the nightstand and laid her down again. Weak to alcohol, Scarlett was soon tipsy, and so she said the words she had always wanted to tell him.
“I’m sorry. I…”
No matter how she searched for other words, it always came down to one thing. The thing she regretted most.
“I’m sorry… for loving you.”
Was it that she wanted to forget the divorce most of all? Was that why she kept coming back to him?
Perhaps, deep down, she thought if they married again, this time it would work.
When the light went out, Scarlett collapsed into exhausted slumber. Viktor pulled up a chair beside the bed and gazed quietly at her face. Then he pried open her anxious, clenched hand, drew it closer, and kissed her palm before covering it with his own.
Her hands weren’t small, yet they fit entirely within his.
And he thought—if she kept losing faith in herself and relying on him, perhaps someday she would even accept him locking the bedroom door from the outside.
