Chapter 139

The alpha could do nothing but hold the omega in his arms and absorb all his crying. He enveloped it all in his chest until not even dry sobs came out anymore.

“Reynard.”

Valentin called his husband’s name, bringing his eyes back to reality as they were about to sink into pain again.

“Come here. The sunlight is good today.”

A thin, white hand led his husband to where he was. Reynard quickened his steps and stood beside Valentin.

They basked in the spring sunlight on their emotions, well-hidden and blurred by time over several months. So that it could become a little warmer and fainter. So that they could struggle to live through the present and future marked by pain.

Reynard gently held Valentin’s hand. But what he got in return was a very firm grip squeezing tightly.

For a moment, he was perplexed by the strength of that pale and thin but strong hand. How could he overcome it so calmly and composedly? Considering Valentin’s usual temperament and sensitivity, it was incomprehensible, but it was better than crying and wasting away. So his own understanding didn’t matter.

“Today… I finally decided on a name for the baby.”

“…”

“Without even a name… we couldn’t properly call our baby all this time, could we?”

“…What did you name her?”

“Sharon. The Rose of Sharon.”

“…Sharon Dennox.”

“Yes. ‘Arise, my darling, my beautiful one, come with me.'”

Only then did Reynard realize that Valentin had recited a verse from the Bible and derived the name from there. And from his gaze looking up at the sky, he could tell who Valentin thought the baby with the flower’s name was with and where she had gone when he chose that name.

Valentin had named her thinking that their daughter was now in heaven, holding the hand of a saint, just like the verse he had spoken. Or hoping it was so. Reynard now understood where and how the name had come from after months of contemplation.

Reynard thought that Valentin probably wanted to give their pitiful daughter, who had left so miserably without living even a full day, a name that was both a beautiful flower and promised rest for her soul.

After the child passed away, Reynard had wanted to rage and pour out his anger towards the sky, feeling as if God had abandoned and cast them aside. But despite going through such a difficult ordeal, it seemed Valentin still hadn’t let go of his faith.

Reynard habitually hid the pain and anger that threatened to boil up again and nodded.

“I’ll have the name engraved on the headstone right away.”

“…Yes.”

After staring together for a long time at the ground where their daughter slept, they returned to the mansion holding hands.

Skillfully hiding their bleeding, torn, and wounded hearts from each other.@@novelbin@@

Taking slow but diligent steps, knowing they just had to keep living.

A dandelion seed gently settled on the nameless headstone.

So that the delicate flower, in the name of spring, would keep their sleeping daughter from being lonely.

Abyss

The baby died.

.

.

Valentin, the child closed her eyes. We can’t meet her anymore. I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. You didn’t do anything wrong, Valentin. Don’t cry. I’m sorry.

A trembling voice mumbled to me countless times.

For a day or two, I couldn’t believe his words saying the baby was no longer in this world.

I just kept thinking foolish thoughts, like maybe they were saying that because the baby was too weak and unhealthy, so they had hidden her away in some small room, or maybe he was just joking to punish me for constantly getting hurt and being sick.

But I think I already knew when I heard that story.

I had glimpsed the pain and despair mixed in his eyes, in that always strong gaze of my husband.

Ah, I see.

I really have lost my child.

My daughter has left on a long journey to a place where I can never meet her again.

I squeezed my eyes shut as if crushing my burning eyeballs.

In my heart, where I wanted to tear myself apart and butcher myself out of unbearable anguish, I recalled the first and last appearance of that young life that was so much smaller than a normal baby.

In fact, I couldn’t tell anyone that when I closed my eyes, that image kept forming as an afterimage.

From all those who turned their eyes away and tried not to face the pain, as if what was already dead should be sent back to the earth as is proper. From them, I also pretended to turn my eyes away as if I had overcome the loss of my child, and acted as if I couldn’t see that memory.

But my daughter’s image remained vivid on my retina.

I quietly clenched my fist.

Yes. She was this small.

My daughter’s head was just this big. How could a person’s skull be so small? It was such a tiny head and face that such a stupid sentiment arose.

On that small round thing, there was a lot of fine black hair, as soft as down, gleaming and fluffy like the inner down of a pigeon’s wing. And on the even tinier face, I remember being fascinated, even in my dazed state, by the wrinkled red skin and the compact arrangement of small eyes, nose, and mouth.

It’s a person. Can you believe it? I gave birth to a person.

But that person is so small, Reynard. Can a baby be this small…?

In the midst of the pain and dizziness of childbirth, I mumbled such wonder to my husband as I looked at the daughter laid beside my head. And he smiled at me with a face that looked like he might cry.

As I was falling into sleep that seemed like it would never end, I said in my heart: Sleep well. Let’s meet again soon, little one.

But we couldn’t meet again. And you received all of me, crying out in disbelief, purging all the grief of my life for days on end as if I would pour it all out. I saw the face of my husband, who had always been strong as if nothing under heaven or on this earth could frighten him, change. You, now filled with fear and pain, about to collapse.

It was then that I think I came to my senses.

Yes, yes. When I was overwhelmed with sorrow and sinking into the swamp of darkness, falling into depression, you embraced me and pulled me up. And you held me up so that weak figure could stand up again. So now I’ll hold you up.

I think I pulled myself together with such thoughts.

Humans are really amazing, aren’t they? I probably could never have become strong if I hadn’t seen him slump down like that.

Reynard was enveloped in pain even as he held the cup for me in place of my broken arm, carried me around when I had difficulty moving, and gazed blankly at my face as I was about to fall asleep. Seeing the collapse of this strong person like the god of war Ares, I kept thinking that I needed to come to my senses. Now I’ll support you so you don’t crumble.

Married couples are really amazing, aren’t they? There seemed to be some power that could hold one side up so they wouldn’t fall. We were connected to each other by a strong rope, able to live while comforting each other.

But even as I pretended to be strong, or really became stronger in the process of living on, I would secretly fall into a pit.

The pit in my heart, as deep as an abyss, was like a trap deliberately dug deep by someone trying to make others fall in, then disguised as level ground. Once you suddenly fell in at an unexpected moment, you couldn’t climb back out.

Every time I fell into the abyss once in a while, I thought alone in that pit of depression.

Could the reason I lost my daughter be because I always thought this pregnancy was burdensome?

Maybe you heard all my thoughts through the blood vessels and nerves in my womb. So maybe you misunderstood that the father who carried you didn’t want or love me. Is that what you thought, so you went far away…?

But, daughter. That’s not the truth…. It’s true that you came unexpectedly, and it’s true that this pregnancy and marriage were always overwhelming, but I never once resented you or wished you would leave. Really, believe me.

If you left us thinking that, I’m so sorry I don’t know what to do…. How should I live on?

Or, if I had been more careful, could you have not left so futilely? Did my going out and meeting people while carrying you cause some problem?

It’s all my fault. It’s all because of me.

I repeated such thoughts over and over inside the inner abyss on the bed until the pillowcase was soaked, while my husband was away.

Even after falling into such grief, I would hide those feelings again around the time my husband was due to return. I don’t want to make him collapse again by seeing me like this. I became strong on my own. I was able to climb out of the pit that I thought I could never escape if I just thought of Reynard.

But sometimes I would secretly open a very sturdy small jewel box.

I kept my daughter’s first hair cut in there. From time to time, I would gaze at it endlessly, losing track of time.

It was the only trace left in the world by the baby already buried in the winter ground.

Afraid that the soft and fragile thing might wear away and disappear, or fly away in a sudden gust of wind, I couldn’t bring myself to touch it with my hands, just looking at it constantly to gather my resolve.

Yes. You’re gone, but I’m already your father. Right?

My precious little daughter has already been embraced in heaven’s arms.

Those left behind had to live out the rest of their lives. So that someday, when this world ends, we can smile and say to our daughter: It was miserable days without you, but I still endured hard. I finished my given life this well, and now I’ve come to meet you. It was difficult, so now please embrace me in those arms. So that we could say that proudly.

So I had to live on. I wanted to meet my daughter later with a clear conscience.

So now we say goodbye. We must endure this period of parting for a while.

Let’s meet again in heaven, daughter.

That’s how I said farewell.

And today too, I will skillfully swallow the rising tears and grief.

The Other Side

Valentin had that dream again after a long time.

The accusing words of people, sharp as ground needles, the mocking laughter of high society ridiculing Valentin, their contemptuous gazes. And Prince Clifton’s final sneering urging. The despair of being cornered into a tight spot and pushed to the edge of life’s cliff. Everything was exactly the same scene as when he first had the nightmare. As always, it was a lucid dream.