The Abandoned and Terminally Ill Lady Married a Monster - Chapter 2
Chapter 2
“This is our little secret. You can’t tell anyone, not even Father or Grandmother. Understand? It’s because Mother wants to give this only to Ailee.”
Her mother’s breath had been ragged, laced with anxiety. Sensing her mother’s unease, Ailee quickly agreed. She had the feeling it would be taken away if she didn’t.
Her mother finally relaxed, her shoulders slumping with relief. Ailee looked at her, eyes shining.
“Yes! I’ll keep it a secret!”
“Good. You have to take it every day. That’s what good children do.”
Good children?
All she ever heard was that she was a bad child. Would taking this truly make her a good child, someone her mother would love? Ailee nodded vigorously, her heart pounding.
‘I’ll be a good child!’
She’ll be a good child. She’ll listen to Mother, and someday she’ll be a proper eldest daughter, recognized by everyone. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?
What made her happiest was the secret she now shared with her mother!
She had thought she was excluded from the family, but her mother was looking out for her. She had been foolish, not understanding her mother’s heart. This secret alone filled her with joy. It felt like a secret thread, connecting her to her mother.
She still didn’t know exactly what the medicine, given with such secrecy, was, but she didn’t mind. It couldn’t possibly be bad for her; it came from her mother.
‘I’ll take it as soon as I get back to the cottage.’
Even though she hadn’t heard a single birthday wish and had been chased away from the celebration, this secret was enough. She clung to that memory, trying to erase the hurt of the earlier events.
“The young lady has been sent away again.”
“It’s to be expected. I have at least one ability, but the young lady has nothing… Honestly, it’s a bit pathetic.”
“Shhh. Keep your voice down.”
‘In books, they say if you’re lost in thought, you don’t notice your surroundings.’
Why could she see and hear everything so clearly the more she tried to think? Was this another sign of her inadequacy?
The more she tried to block out the world with her thoughts, the louder the servants’ voices became. She clenched her fists, acutely aware of their presence.
“What can she do even if she hears us? She’s beneath us. Poor thing.”
Ailee bit her lip. No matter how many times she heard it, it never got easier.
‘I can’t hear anything. I can’t hear anything. I’m just going home to rest. I’m going home to take the medicine Mother gave me and rest.’
The word “home” sparked an unwelcome thought: ‘My home is the Lizziana mansion.’ Such thoughts were dangerous. They threatened to break the dam holding back her tears.
She had to suppress them. Dwelling on them only hurt her in the end.
“Poor young lady. At least she was born a noble.”
“That’s true. If she were born a commoner like us, she’d have been sold to a circus by now. Or…”
If their voices had physical form, they would be sharp blades, stabbing at her. Even as they faded, they seemed to grow clearer, forcing her to hold her breath and quicken her pace, almost running.
With her head down, she walked until she reached the small cottage that had become her space. She pushed open the door, the familiar creak sending chills down her spine.
Familiar. Too familiar.
That’s what made it worse. The familiarity was horrifying.
She steadied her breath and slowly looked around. After blinking back her tears a few times, they began to well up again, overflowing.
‘This isn’t my home.’
The suppressed emotions from earlier erupted. Tears streamed down her face.
No one had ever comforted her, no matter how much she cried when she was younger, so crying had become a normal, solitary ritual. But today, the loneliness felt particularly acute.
The more she tried not to cry, the harder she sobbed. Choking back her tears, she pulled out the medicine from the white container.
‘I have Mother’s gift, though. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.’
She tried to swallow her tears and calm down, but she couldn’t.
‘Why do I keep crying? Stop crying, you idiot!’
She was angry at herself for not being able to control her tears.
“Don’t, cry, hic, don’t cry, silly Ailee, waah.”
She couldn’t swallow what Mother gave her if she kept crying. She was trying to calm down, taking deep breaths, when she heard it.
Knock, knock, knock.
‘Who is it?’
Her tears stopped instantly. No one ever knocked on the door of this old gardener’s cottage, except for the maid who brought her meals and the twins who came to tease her.
‘Could it be Mother? Has she come to give me another gift?’
A flicker of hope bloomed in her chest. She scrubbed her face roughly with her arm before opening the door.
If Mother saw she’d been crying, she might be upset. What if she turned around and left?
Her face flushed red from the harsh wiping, but she didn’t care.
Filled with anticipation, she opened the door.
Creak. The old door groaned open, revealing…
“Who are you…?”
