Chapter 31
The icy river closed in from all sides, darkness swallowing her vision, her lungs squeezed tight.
Elisa thrashed her arms, desperate to break the surface, but terror had her body locked in a vice.
No.
I don’t want to die like this.
I want to live.
The silent scream tore through her chest—then something seized her arm, yanking hard.
She knew, instinctively, that this touch belonged to someone trying to save her.
She didn’t resist—she let herself be pulled.
The world slowly brightened.
Air flooded into her starved lungs.
“Cough—cough—”
On solid ground at last, Elisa braced her hands against the earth, hacking violently as water poured from her lungs.
Her drenched body shook like a leaf.
“You okay?”
Ethan knelt beside her, one knee in the mud, his hand moving gently to pat her back.
Slap.
She smacked his hand away, her eyes glacial and cutting into him.
“Do I look okay to you?”
Her voice trembled as much as her soaked body, but it was thick with fury.
Ethan exhaled a short sigh and brushed wet strands of hair from her face.
“That’s why I told you to stay still.”
A humourless laugh escaped her.
“If your mouth is crooked, at least make sure your words aren’t. If you hadn’t forced me onto that gondola, none of this would have happened.”
Before Ethan could respond, her voice rose, sharp and heated.
“Oh, wait. Was this your plan from the start? Were you hoping I’d fall in the water and beg you to save me?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
Ridiculous? The only one spouting nonsense here is you.
“Cough—”
The retort died in her throat as another burst of river water clawed its way up.
She doubled over coughing, and while she did, the gondolier—having moored the gondola at the bank—hurried over with a blanket.
“Let’s go back. You’ll catch a cold like this.”
Ethan took the blanket and wrapped it over her shoulders.
The warmth seeped into her chilled skin, but it was nowhere near enough to thaw the ice inside her chest.
Elisa yanked the blanket off and tossed it onto the wet ground with a sharp glare.
“Don’t pretend to care, not after you abandoned me.”
“That’s—”
“If you’re about to feed me some excuse about circumstances you couldn’t explain, don’t. I’m sick of it.”
Excuses—yes, but it wasn’t just the words she was tired of.
She was tired of this—this tug-of-war with Ethan, this suffocating push and pull.
It hadn’t started out this way.
When she’d first discovered he’d forged Derrick’s handwriting and seal to send her letters, or manipulated Giselle Briana into luring her onto the gondola, she’d thought his actions outrageous—infuriating, even.
But alongside the indignation… There had been a flicker of excitement.
She didn’t want to admit it, but it was true.
And yet, that spark had drowned the moment she’d plunged into cold, unfeeling waters—replaced by something heavier, sharper.
No—clearer.
That was the better word.
It was as if she’d finally woken up.
A wry smile tugged at her lips, smudging what remained of her lipstick.
She closed her eyes, then opened them, meeting Ethan’s gaze—the same grey eyes she had once loved so deeply—with a calm as still as the river’s surface.
“You have a good memory, so I’m sure you remember when I told you—trust is like glass. Once it’s shattered, it can never be put back the way it was.”
The truth was, she had seriously considered accepting him again.
She had loved him enough to give up everything, if it meant she could stay by his side.
If she were being honest with herself, she still loved him even now.
And Ethan—Ethan was the father of that sweet, precious child she adored more than life itself.
The greatest barrier between them—their difference in station—had already crumbled.
All it would take was one nod from her.
But every time she thought she could say yes… the memories from four years ago rose up, and the word froze in her throat.
The warmth from that night hadn’t even faded before he slipped away without a word.
She had missed him, resented him, grieved for him—until her chest felt as if it had been crushed in on itself.
Those moments were still as vivid as open wounds.
The first time is the hardest. After that, it gets easier.
Just like that saying, Elisa feared that Ethan might leave her again without so much as a goodbye.
And if he did… she knew she wouldn’t be able to get back up this time.
That fear alone kept her from accepting his heart.
Yet she couldn’t bring herself to push him away completely either.
That pathetic, foolish hesitation repeated itself like a refrain, tormenting her over and over.
But every piece of music—no matter how often its melody repeats—eventually needs a finale.
“My trust in you shattered four years ago.”
And now, this was the moment to strike the final chord.
“So… please, Ethan. Let’s stop.”
Each word left her lips like a stone dropping into deep water, her face worn and weary—like an old woman who had weathered every hardship life could throw at her.
It cut deeper into Ethan than all the shouting and angry words she’d ever hurled at him.
Because now… she looked as though she had truly given up.
Even on the part of her that had once loved him.
Trust. Yes—she had trusted him.
He’d believed that, no matter how angry Elisa got, her feelings for him wouldn’t change.
That in the end, she would understand him, accept him.
That belief was what had allowed him to leave.
It was also what gave him the confidence to return and stand before her again.
But it had all been arrogance.
The choice he made—to be near her—had instead become the reason he lost her.
The realisation shoved him into a pit of bottomless despair.
Even now, he knew—if he told her everything, he could still hold on to her.
But in doing so, Elisa would lose everything else.
That can’t happen.
He had gone to war to protect her, to keep her shining without shadow.
That feeling hadn’t changed; it was why he couldn’t speak the truth.
Call him a fool if they wanted—this was the only way he knew to protect his love.
Yet his cowardice—his inability to let her go—filled his blue eyes with a hollow emptiness.
They stood locked in silence, as if time itself had stopped, until Elisa was the first to move.
She rose, shaking the water from her hair and skirts with a few absent pats, then walked past him without a word.
Don’t go.
The plea swelled in his throat, but never crossed his lips.
It only echoed inside him.
From his clenched fist, bright drops of red pattered to the ground.
If she had turned around, just once, Ethan would have run to her without a second thought.
But Elisa never looked back.
Even as she staggered, her steps were steady, her gaze fixed ahead.
The resolute set of her shoulders told him all he needed to know.
And so, all he could do was watch as she grew smaller in the distance.
Even when a score reaches its finale, the echo lingers.
And the longer you’ve been lost in the music, the longer that echo lasts.
Elisa told herself that her unrest was only temporary—just a storm in her heart that time would calm.
But before she had the chance to steady herself, a shocking piece of news arrived.
Derek Grenville had been in a carriage accident and was now admitted to the Royal General Hospital.
It was Countess Leslie who brought her the news, speaking with visible concern.
Someone had caused the accident on purpose, she said, and the culprit had escaped before they could be caught—a most troubling matter indeed.
The culprit… It must be Ethan.
He’d told her himself that he had sabotaged Derek’s carriage to keep him from reaching her.
That much was certain.
When he’d said “sabotaged,” she’d imagined some minor damage, nothing more.
She hadn’t thought he’d deliberately cause a full-blown accident.
The thought left her both stunned and heavy with guilt—Derek might have been hurt because of her.
Was he badly injured?
Among the nobility, unless a person needed surgery or was gravely ill, they usually recovered at home under the care of the family physician.
For Derek to be hospitalised meant his injuries were severe.
That knowledge only deepened the weight pressing on her chest.
She told herself she ought to visit him, but the truth was, she didn’t know how she could face him—or what she could possibly say.
Whether by misfortune or by blessing, she caught a cold, which gave her an excuse to delay the visit.
A lingering aftereffect of her plunge into the icy river.
It wasn’t as bad as before, though, and within two days she had recovered enough to get out of bed.
I’ll go see him.
She needed to, after all—and she wanted to see for herself that he was all right.
If possible… She wanted to apologise, too.
“Haah…”
With that resolution, she made her way to the hospital. Yet, when she finally stood in front of the door to his room, a creeping reluctance began to rise within her.
She neither opened the door nor turned to leave—just hovered there, frozen.
And then, without warning, the door swung open.
