CH 23

Excluding the circumstances before and after, Annette was a victim, at least in this case. She had every right to forgive the sinner.

But Heiner still looked uncomprehending. He said in a tone of exasperation,

“Are you going to be a saint?”

At that, Annette laughed softly.

“You know I can’t do that.”

It was funny. Because if you had to name the least qualified woman to be a saint in Padania, it would definitely be her.

“Catherine didn’t ask me for leniency. I just made my own decision. And …….”

Annette stopped speaking at the gaze she suddenly felt. Their eyes met, with a small smile still on her face.

The air ceased to flow. Heiner continued to stare, not looking away. After a few moments of silence, he muttered with a somber expression.

“… It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you smile like that.” (H)

In a flash, the smile disappeared from Annette’s face. She unconsciously raised her hand to cover her mouth. Their eyes met again.

Annette slowly lowered her hand. A quiet voice flowed through the room.

“I’m sorry.” (A)

“….”

“I don’t resent you.” (A)

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” (H)

Annette tried to smile at him again, but for some reason it didn’t work the way she wanted it to.

“It’s just everything……” (A)

“…”

“I’m sorry, Heiner. For everything, even what I don’t know.” (A)

Annette spoke with the utmost candor, but was not at all upset about her heart or the words she uttered.

She was calm as if she was telling the truth. It was as if she was a person who had exhausted even the least amount of emotion she could show.

It was rather Heiner who was upset. His jaw tightened. Heiner gently clenched his back teeth and chuckled.

“Do you know what you should apologize for?”

Annette didn’t answer. She didn’t know exactly what answer to give.

She knew that Heiner hated her, but she didn’t know if it was just because she was the marquis’ daughter or if it was because of some other personal grudges.

Seeing Annette unable to answer, Heiner laughed, half mockingly and half bitterly.

“Just don’t apologize to me for the rest of your life.” His voice cracked slightly. “Because it’s better that way.”

Annette bit her lips tightly. She was speechless, as if she had swallowed poison that robbed her of her voice. After several attempts, she barely whispered.

“…… okay.”

***

Annette thought as she poured water into the tub. The reason Heiner didn’t want a divorce was that he still wanted revenge.

When one strives through life for a single goal, one often loses his way. They will mistakenly believe that that goal is what they really want.

Such people always realize this only after they have come a long way. That is actually not what they really want.

Annette thought Heiner was in such a state. He was still stuck in the past. As long as she was around, Heiner would be unhappy for the rest of his life.

Steam bloomed softly in the tub. Annette put her hand in the water. Warmth soaked her fingers, a little too much, she thought.

No, actually, it didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter if he really wanted to maintain a deformed life, tied up in misery together.

She was tired and broken. What Heiner wanted had already come true. However, the period was only shorter.

Annette poured rose water into the hot water. She had poured too much, and the scent of roses was terribly unpleasant, but she didn’t mind.

Annette got into the tub with her clothes on. The surface of the water rose high enough for her body to sink. Her tense muscles softened and her eyes became blurry.

She tilted her head back and slowly closed her eyes. Dark, old afterimages flickered in her mind.

“Don’t think, Annette. Just live with the flow.”

How could she do that?

“You’re good at it.”

How could she not think about anything?

She couldn’t possibly turn her back on all the commotion. She couldn’t ignorantly cover her eyes and ears to keep her innocence.

Things required her mind to work. The weight of life, guilt or innocence, the past, the future, responsibility, and cost.

After much thought, the conclusion she reached was clear.

If she was born and raised in the wrong place, if continuing to live her life would hurt someone, then it would be right to abandon it.

Annette grabbed the knife she had left by the tub. The not long day was clouded in vapor.

It was the knife Heiner had given her for self-defense when she met Catherine. She had thought about dying countless times. She even speculated on methods such as falling from a high place, submerging her head in the water, taking pills, shooting herself in the head with a pistol, or cutting her wrists.

In the first case, there were no buildings around that were tall enough to fall and die. A little further out was a bell tower, but the parapet blocked access.

The second one, she couldn’t stand it and raised her head, and the third method was no longer an option since Heiner had already taken her medication away.

And the fourth was difficult to execute because of restrictions on firearms use in the private sector. Suddenly getting a gun looked suspicious.

So the last was the one she chose.

Annette did not know exactly where and how deep to cut to die. She had never heard of such a thing in her life.

So she was going to cut it as deep as she could.

Of course she was scared. Annette knew how much it hurt to see blood from the last shooting.

But she didn’t hesitate.

The awful scent of roses stung her nose. Her head hurt, but she felt refreshed instead. She gently put pressure on the hand that held the knife.

Her breathing calmed and sank. It felt like an end to a long period of anguish, conflict, and pain. Annette smiled with a lighter heart.

Congratulations, Heiner.

Your revenge has been successful.

***

The only light in the darkened room was an incandescent lamp. Heiner took out a cigar. The surface of the unlit cigar glowed white.

It was already well past his work hours, but he didn’t feel like getting up. He couldn’t decide how he should act and react if he ran into Annette at the official residence.

She had never come out of her room anyway.

A cold breeze blew in through the open window. Heiner looked from a distance at the letter of mercy  Annette had left behind. Gradually, it came into focus, and the blurred text became clearer. The contents of the letter of correction remained in its original form. There was not much to it. However, the handwriting was disordered, as if it had been written with her left hand.

Heiner, who had been reading it with a furrowed brow, reached down and opened a bottom drawer. It was filled with bundles of letters and small objects.

He untied the strings of the bundle of letters, pulled out an envelope and opened it. It had elegant handwriting. It was a distinctly different appearance than the messy handwriting on the letter of mercy. At first, Heiner simply compared the handwriting, but before long he began to read the letter.

[To Heiner, who fits everything he says.

Did you think I would be happy if you just sent me a gift after we parted like that? Shouldn’t you have sent even one short note with the gift? The necklace is beautiful. You have as good an eye for jewelry as you do for women. However, you need to learn a little more about the female mind. You may think I am a b*tch when I say things like this, but I meticulously read articles in newspapers and magazines about love fortunes and how to have a healthy relationship…]

Heiner chuckled involuntarily. He had never thought she was a b*tch. If she had been, he would have had her executed much sooner during the revolution.

His eyes steadily moved down the letter, even though he thought it was a really boring story.

[You know, when I’m walking down the street and the clothes on the display case remind me of my next meeting with you. I wish I could wear this on a date, do you ever do that too?

(…… omitted—)

The day before yesterday, I had tea with Coco at a cafe, but I was too tired to listen to what she had to say because I remembered our previous argument. Then, suddenly, Coco brought up several types of stories about male-female relationships. Finally I started to concentrate on the conversation. I was curious to know what type we belonged to–-]

Heiner himself did the same. When he was in the army, the biggest saga was how many women the soldiers could charm, and the screw-ups, and about male-female relationships.

Heiner listened to them unconsciously, thinking they were bullsh*t ramblings, but at the same time he always thought of Annette. 

He knew that she was not at all suited to such vulgar talk, but he could not stop thinking about her.

Why did he listen to those stories…

[And I mean I am sorry to some extent too, Heiner.

And it means that I love you that much.

AU 714, early summer.

Your Lover, Annette Rosenberg]