Please Forget Me - Chapter 322

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

The ring that had always claimed your ring finger, the ring I had loathed so deeply. I almost forgot it.

I took it from my trouser pocket and set it on the table.

It’s over now.

With a bag that held nothing of yours slung over my shoulder, I grasped the doorknob.

You didn’t stop me. Of course you didn’t.

I started to open the door, then hesitated.

‘I should say goodbye, at least. Goodbye?’

For a farewell like this, it sounds absurdly light.

‘Thank you.’

As if I had used you.

‘I’m sorry.’

I’ve said it so many times that it’s worn smooth and lost all meaning.

‘I loved you.’

A cry that means nothing to you.

Click.

In the end, I left without a single last word and closed the door behind me.

I went down the stairs. I didn’t hear the door burst open behind me. I left the inn and walked down the road. No footsteps followed. I went to the post office, sent Rupert a telegram, and walked on again. I didn’t hear you call my name.

You didn’t come after me.

The morning sun stings. Maybe that’s why my eyes keep burning. I covered them with one hand and quickened my pace.

I still can’t accept that it’s over. If I watch it with my own eyes, will I be able to? I still have a duty, to see that you return safely to your husband, don’t I?

I retraced my steps, but I didn’t go back into the inn. I glanced over with stinging eyes, there was no one out front. A pointless look.

At the end of the road, I climbed the hill. I sat in the forget-me-not field where we’d picnicked yesterday and looked down at the inn. Through a window, your silhouette appeared faintly.

You were still perched on the edge of the bed. Perhaps relieved that I was gone, you weren’t holding the gun anymore.

“What are you so anxious about, when I’m not even there?”

Your fingers keep drifting to your lips out of habit. I can’t hold them anymore.

You have plenty to be anxious about, I suppose. You won’t know how to face Rupert, or how he’ll act. I’m sorry, I’m the one who dragged you this far, and yet I’ve run away alone, leaving all the aftermath to you.

Still, I didn’t go back. I only watched. I’d already sent the telegram saying you were nothing but ignorant and innocent, a victim. Your worries will be for nothing.

From time to time, you stood and paced the room.

“Go get something to eat, Dana.”

It’s past mealtime, why aren’t you going? I left you more than enough money.

After pacing for a while, you disappeared from view. I thought you’d finally gone to eat. Then, a moment later, you burst out of the inn.

You scanned the road as if searching for someone. Then you stopped and stared blankly toward the end of the road.

“Why are you doing this…?”

You’re only shaking my resolve.

I’m glad I was drinking the strong liquor I brought with me. If I hadn’t been numbed in body and mind, I might have stood up then and gone back to you.

“Dana, go back inside.”

In the end, you returned to the room.

‘This is right. There’s no turning back now.’

Only when the liquor ran dry and the sun began to set did the truly irreversible moment arrive, when it was too late to turn back even if I tried.

Rupert arrived. He went straight into the room and pulled you into his arms the moment he saw you. Thank goodness. I almost wiped my eyes in relief.

And when he led you into the car and disappeared down the road, I nearly applauded, thinking how perfectly it had turned out.

It felt like watching a play draw to a close with the line, “And they lived happily ever after.”

In that play, I was a supporting character, appearing only when needed, helping the protagonists’ love along or placing trials in their path.

The days I struggled to forget my role and force myself into the spotlight were nothing more than trials destined for the protagonists. A trial, once overcome, loses its purpose.

When all hardships are resolved, the supporting character must exit. So I exited and became an unnamed member of the audience, watching you and Rupert.

Live well. Don’t cry again. Live happily, forever.

I liked this happy ending. If there’s one small regret, it’s that you never showed me yourself in that pretty summer dress.

After the curtain falls, people wonder about the protagonists’ lives. But no one wonders about the lines murmured alone by the supporting character left behind backstage.

“Goodbye, my love.”