Chapter 81
Tap—
“Ha… hah…”
Henry jerked his hand away from hers, breathing heavily as if he’d just woken from a nightmare.
“…Henry? What’s wrong? What—”
Before Riena could finish, his sharp voice cut through the air.
“Don’t come any closer!”
Startled, Riena froze in place. Her wide, trembling eyes locked on him.
The hand he had just offered her was now tightly clenched into a fist, veins standing out along his wrist.
His entire arm trembled, as though fighting some unseen force.
What’s happening to him…?
The change had been so sudden that Riena didn’t even know how to react. All she could do was wait, hoping he would calm down.
Seconds stretched into long, aching minutes before the redness in his eyes began to fade, replaced by the deep blue she remembered.
His hand finally relaxed and fell limply to his side.
Riena took a cautious step forward.
“…Henry. Are you all right now?”
He lifted his gaze slowly, meeting hers for a brief moment. Concern filled her expression—pure, unguarded concern.
After a pause, Henry lowered his head.
“…Forgive me, Riena. I’ve behaved disgracefully…”
“No, it’s fine. Don’t apologize. I’m just… worried, that’s all.”
Her calm, gentle voice seemed to steady him more than anything else could.
Henry bit down hard on his lower lip. He hadn’t done that consciously—it was as if something had taken over him.
What on earth was that just now…?
While he stood there lost in confusion, Riena stepped closer, lifting her eyes to his.
“What happened out there, Henry? What did you go through?”
Her question, filled with quiet worry, drew his gaze once more.
It wasn’t only her voice—her eyes, too, brimmed with concern. She was watching him closely, studying every flicker of emotion in his face.
For a long time, he said nothing. Then, slowly, Henry shook his head.
“No… nothing. I just haven’t been back long, that’s all. I’m still tired, I think. I’m sorry for worrying you.”
He managed a small, familiar smile—the same gentle smile he’d always given her.
Riena parted her lips as if to say something, but stopped herself. Everyone carried things they didn’t wish to speak about. Henry didn’t owe her an explanation for everything.
So she simply nodded and stepped back.
The setting sun cast a warm red glow over both of them.
As Riena looked up at the darkening sky, she spoke softly.
“Henry, maybe we should save the sea for another day.”
“…I’m sorry, Riena. I made a mistake.”
Startled by her suggestion, Henry looked at her quickly, words tumbling out in haste.
“You must have been upset. I shouldn’t have—how could I dare to touch your—”
“Henry.”
Her firm tone cut him off.
She wouldn’t press him about what had just happened, but she could tell something inside him wasn’t right.
“That’s not it. It’s not about what happened just now. I’m fine, really.”
Her voice grew steady, decisive.
“It’s just getting late, that’s all. The sun’s going down. Let’s talk more next time.”
“…When can I see you again?”
His sudden question made her blink.
His normally calm, sea-colored eyes were now mixed with something else—unease, impatience, fear.
She could guess why, but she didn’t know what her words might do to him.
So instead of answering right away, she just looked at him quietly until, finally, she smiled.
“Tomorrow. We can meet tomorrow, Henry. We’ll eat something good and finish our talk then.”
Relief softened his expression, bringing back that familiar warmth to his gaze.
Then, slowly, Henry reached out. He gently lifted the same hand he had rejected moments ago.
Looking between her face and her flushed hand, he hesitated… then bent forward.
A soft kiss brushed the back of her hand.
When he raised his head again, his voice was low and sincere.
“I meant what I said earlier, Riena. I truly missed you.”
It was only meant as a polite gesture, a soldier’s courtesy—yet Riena felt her fingers twitch.
Something in his tone, in the weight behind those words, felt different.
Trying to hide her unease, she smiled faintly and nodded.
Back home, Riena dropped her heavy grocery bags onto the kitchen table with a sigh.
“Phew…”
Lately, one thing after another has piled up on her.
First Dante, then Henry—both had left her mind in complete disarray.
She needed to sort her thoughts out, but they refused to settle. Emotions tangled in her chest, impossible to untwine.
And she couldn’t talk to anyone about it, either.
She let her upper body slump against the table, exhaling deeply. Then, noticing the small calendar nearby, she reached for it.
It was already July.
Counting the days on her fingers, Riena let out a short, humorless laugh.
It was hard to believe it had already been since autumn two years ago when she’d come here.
“You won’t live long, will you?”
“Medicine might slow it a little… but two years is the most we can hope for.”
She buried her face into her arms, recalling Benjamin’s calm, sorrowful voice.
Two years—the deadline he’d spoken of—was almost here.
It had gone by in the blink of an eye.
Even with the medicine, two years was the limit.
She rose from her seat, walked to her bedroom, and opened the drawer beside her bed.
From it, she pulled out a small bottle and tipped it into her palm.
Only about twenty pills remained.
At best, they’d last a couple of months if she rationed them carefully.
Skipping doses wouldn’t kill her right away, but still…
The more time passed, the more she found herself clinging to life.
Maybe there’s still a way to delay it a little longer, she caught herself thinking again and again.
A faint smile tugged at her lips as she sank weakly onto the bed.
She didn’t need to look back to know when that change had begun.
The turning point was Dante Venachert.
“When the flowers bloom, come during the day to see them. You like flowers, don’t you?”
It was his fault, really—his gentle words, his sudden kindness—making her look forward to things again.
Making her hope.
Why does he have to make everything so confusing…
Riena shut her eyes tightly.
Feelings she had worked so hard to bury kept surfacing.
Still, she refused to name them.
If she did—if she acknowledged them—they’d become too real.
Let’s not do this…
She didn’t want to relive that one-sided love all over again, and in truth, she didn’t have the time left to.
So she wouldn’t blame him anymore.
After all, everything he had shown her—all those looks, words, gestures—were probably nothing more than passing whims to him.
Just a momentary amusement.
To him, she was nothing but a brief distraction—safe, secret, and easily forgotten.
And as long as she played along, no real harm would come to either of them.
Most importantly, he would never discover her secret.
So she just had to endure this summer.
Once it passed, Dante would return to Behern.
And she… she would leave this place.
Riena lay back slowly, whispering to herself.
“Yes. Just until summer ends.”
