Please Lend Me 50 Million - Chapter 50

“No, there are plenty of problems. I’m upset! Think about Beryl meeting Harriet. Aren’t you angry? Doesn’t your stomach turn just imagining what other things they might have talked about? How could it not? I hate it! I hate it so much I feel like I’m going crazy! It must be funny to you. But….”

Asha shut her mouth. Even though it was her own emotion, she couldn’t find the reason why she was this anxious and restless. She was suddenly struck by fear. It felt as if the lemon candy she was holding in her mouth was about to be snatched away entirely. She had thought this ticklish sensation was something only she could enjoy, but she was anxious that Beryl might have felt that same tickle too.

How pathetic. Both her own self for throwing such an unjustified tantrum, and the fact that her heart wouldn’t settle even after realizing everything.

Aswan was sure to burst into laughter at the sight of her acting out. But when Asha looked up, his expression was one of considerable surprise. Seeing that blank look on his face made Asha lose her momentum entirely.

“…Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You….”

He, who would usually pick a fight over her pouting way of speaking, blinked for a moment and then smiled softly. It was a brilliant, radiant smile, like the summer sunlight.

“You love him. The Count.”

“Love?”

Huh?

Asha mimicked Aswan’s pronunciation. Love. luh—ve. It was a word so common she probably heard it once a day, so why did it feel so foreign? The love that I know? How can this boiling rage be love?

Asha found his conclusion absurd. To Asha, who clearly didn’t understand his words at all, Aswan explained slowly and clearly as if he were teaching a child their first words. It was the appearance of an elder that only came out at times like this.

“You’re jealous of Miss Anderman. You’re anxious and restless, worried that Harriet, whom you love, might turn his gaze toward Beryl. Am I wrong? That’s why you’re angry.”

Having heard the kind explanation, Asha couldn’t react at all, like a fool.

Love? The word ‘love’ that she must have heard hundreds, no, hundreds of millions of times in her life, felt as strange as if she were hearing it for the first time. The word ‘admiration’ felt more familiar.

But despite that, the reason she couldn’t deny this strange definition of ‘love’ was….

The moment she placed the word love into the emotions she felt, it fit perfectly, like wearing a custom-made dress. Affection between a married couple, and admiration for a shrewd man. Asha only now realized that the definitions she had used for their relationship were wrong.

This sweet sensation tickling her lungs, this rage that turned her vision red at the mere suggestion of him talking to someone else—if this wasn’t love, then what was it?

Thump.

The moment she admitted it, her face flushed a burning red. It felt like her face would explode, and her flesh trembled at her heart that had dropped with a thud. Between her chattering teeth, her true feelings suddenly spilled out.

It was a murmur that sounded like a scream.

“Wh—what do I do?”

“What do you mean, what do you do?”

Kyaah!

Despite Aswan’s composed response, Asha’s mind began to flip into a mess.

“What do I do! Should I get married? No, I’m already married? Then should we roll around messily? Th—that, we’ve already done that too! What do I do? What do I do!”

Her overturned mind couldn’t distinguish between what should and shouldn’t be said, and it easily performed several leaps of logic. It was natural for her gaze to lose its way—she couldn’t keep her hands still, touching her cheeks one moment and clutching her hair the next. It was behavior that clearly showed her bustling inner thoughts.

Just as Aswan, unable to watch any longer, was about to tell her to calm down, Asha clenched her fists and drew an absurd conclusion.

“M—marry, proposal. Yes, I must propose.”

“Calm down, huuh?”

Thanks to that, Aswan’s serious consolation ended in a pathetic snort. What on earth was she talking about? Aswan, who found it hard to tolerate his sister’s idiotic words even if he could for a stranger, frowned slightly and picked through the truth piece by piece. He truly was a cold-hearted brother.

“What are you talking about? You’ve been married for a long time. The Count was the one who already proposed.”

“Then what do I do? Shouldn’t something change?”

At the plan that had come to naught, Asha clutched her head again. She tried hard to think of something, but in her saturated mind, rather than a thought, the sentence—

‘I—love—Harriet—’

The sentence lingered like an echo in her mind.

Aswan shook his head at the sight of Asha falling into deeper confusion.

“It just means the relationship will get better. Besides, the Count already likes you, doesn’t he? Rumors that he dotes on you are widespread all the way to the North.”

‘He likes me.’

Aswan’s voice, which had been bouncing off her ears, entered clearly this time. And at that moment, Asha discovered a fundamental problem.

“He doesn’t know…?”

“Huh?”

“I don’t know if Harriet likes me….”

Had she ever heard him say he loved her? Harriet had always treated her kindly, but that was him doing his duty to his wife, not because she was ‘Asha.’