Please Forget Me - Chapter 321

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

“…”

You didn’t answer. I waited, endlessly.

What was I waiting for? It would be a lie to say there wasn’t an answer I hoped for.

When I began telling you everything, a part of me hoped that once you knew the whole truth, you might still choose me. But as I spoke, I was forced to retrace the years myself and in doing so, I realized I had no right to ask you to choose me.

And yet, shameless and foolish as I am, I couldn’t let go of that hope. I kept clinging to the delusion that if only you forgave me, if only you chose me, I could overcome any hardship and run away with you.

Even so, I didn’t begin by begging for forgiveness, as I had first promised. Because the moment I did, everything I said would turn into nothing more than excuses in your eyes.

But you already believed every word of mine was an excuse.

“I can’t believe a single thing you say.”

“…”

“I can’t trust you anymore.”

I understand. If I were you, I wouldn’t trust me either.

“Then what do you want to do now?”

“…I don’t know.”

You were lost, unsure what to do. And pretending to help you, I said something shameless and foolish.

“Dana, even if you can’t trust me… if you still love me…”

You shook your head without hesitation. Countless emotions were tangled in your eyes, but there was no affection for me among them.

“I find you unbearable—”

You didn’t need to finish. The way you looked straight at me told me everything.

“I’m scared.”

Last time, you looked at me with hatred. This time, with fear. I don’t know which hurts more.

Still, my foolish question helped you understand your own heart. And it helped me, too. To finally give you up.

Only now do I realize it.

Why did I leave the decision to you? It was mine to make.

Everything that happened between us is my fault. The things I caused, I should be the one to bring them to an end. Once again, I had been cowardly, pushing the choice onto you.

“Dana, go back to your husband.”

You still look unsure whether that’s the right answer. But once this confusion passes, you’ll understand that it is.

“I’m dangerous to you.”

For now, I’ve regained my senses, but I could return to the starting point at any time, blinded by the madness of wanting to be with you even in hell, and try to kill you again.

“So go.”

Sending you back to the man who nearly killed you… from the man who truly tried to kill you, what an absurd thing this is.

All I can hope is that Rupert learned something standing at death’s door. And you, too—please don’t follow a husband who chooses the wrong path again, just because you love him.

Don’t endure it just because you love him. Please.

“You remember what I told you, right?”

You truly knew nothing. I deceived you from beginning to end. Say that you never crossed a line with me.

If that man knows anything, say you had no choice because I forced you, claiming to be your husband. And if he tries to hold you responsible, don’t forget the name I told you. Don’t keep yielding to him unconditionally anymore.

I wanted to fulfill my final responsibility. To take you back to where your husband was.

“N-no. I don’t want to. I don’t trust you anymore.”

But you wouldn’t follow me. I see… then—

“If you stay here, your husband will come and take you.”

Still facing the gun you kept on me, I made you a promise. Then I asked,

“Do you want to kill me?”

You stared up at me blankly, then slowly shook your head. Of course, you’re a kind person.

You’re holding the gun because you’re afraid. In that case, it’s better that I leave quickly.

I picked up the bag that had fallen to the floor, its contents spilled everywhere, and packed only my things, leaving yours behind. As you watched me silently, you asked haltingly,

“W-where… are you going?”

“Home.”

You blinked in confusion.

“I should go home too. What I needed to do is finished.”

As I checked to see if I’d left anything behind, my eyes landed on the box of clothes I’d bought for you yesterday. I set it somewhere visible and added,

“Wear these when you go. He’ll buy you something better, but still, this is my last…”

Saying that would only make you want to wear them less.

“You’ll feel uncomfortable wearing something I bought. But you’re a Marchioness, you can’t go back dressed as poorly as you are now.”

As I looked at you in those worn clothes, I felt like something was missing. What was it? I’d already returned the forget-me-not necklace…

“Ah. The ring.”