Guidelines for the Perfect Goodbye - Chapter 182

With her heart wide open, Viscountess Odridge shed her polite, social mask and began to speak freely about herself.

Cecilia responded just enough to encourage her, gathering bits of information about the viscountess as she went.

An emotional woman, whose feelings were openly displayed on her face. Someone who saw no need to correct her temperament.

She had little interest in others’ affairs and wasn’t particularly concerned about how others viewed her.

If she wanted something, she made sure to get it, without paying much mind to others’ opinions.

A woman who had grown up with ease, married with ease, and was leading a comfortable, uncomplicated life.

The world she spoke of was filled with nothing but brightness and warmth. Even the occasional complaints about her husband or longing for her son felt like nothing more than childish whining.

‘To her, these must be struggles and hardships in their own right.’

She knew in her head that she shouldn’t compare another’s pain to her own. There was nothing more pitiful than that.

Just as it was pointless to look at the beggars in the slums and feel reassured that her own barren life was somehow more ‘tidied up’…

She understood it well enough in her mind, but it was an instinct she just couldn’t easily let go of.

Perhaps it was something ingrained in her very nature. After all, she was the product of a deficient man and a twisted woman.

It was only natural that no part of her was smooth or rounded. She had simply padded her rough edges with leather, pretending to be sleek and polished.

The fact that she could still laugh along so carelessly, despite her insides twisting more with each of the woman’s complaints, was probably thanks to that same wretched nature of hers.

Cecilia carefully timed her moves while subtly indulging the woman’s whims.

The woman, cautiously tilting her teacup, gradually shed her outer layers, revealing her core. With a slightly embarrassed face, she made her excuses to Cecilia and had a servant bring out a bottle of wine.

“I’m sorry. I’ve actually been feeling really down today. But drinking alone… it just feels too miserable.”

“Of course. Please, don’t mind me at all, Madam.”

Cecilia understood well enough the bitterness of drinking alone. It was something she herself often did in the past, and something Lilith was likely doing even now.

Even if Lilith had been happy to spend time alone with Adam at the Coffret Manor, after they’d finished their business, he would have probably slipped away to a club, leaving her behind. In a fit of anger, she’d likely be drinking straight from the bottle.

And since there was no one to stop her now, she’d keep drinking until she collapsed from the hangover. I could only hope she wasn’t drinking herself to the point of ruining her health.

Cecilia felt frustrated with herself for thinking of her mother in this moment. Of all times, why now, while looking at this peaceful woman, did she have to think of her mother? And worse, why did she have to compare the two of them?

“My husband left me behind, saying he was going to have drinks with his guest… Honestly, men are so simple and thoughtless. He doesn’t care at all about how upset I am!”

Cecilia, trying to comfort her, asked,

“On days when you’re feeling down, loneliness only makes it worse. But it sounds like you had a guest already? It might have been nicer to join them in the party hall.”

“Oh, that man has nothing to do with this party. He’s a friend my husband has known for ages. Whenever he’s in Mannheim, he stays with us for several days, to the point where we practically think of him as family.”

The viscountess grumbled.

“I don’t understand why he stays here when he has a perfectly fine house of his own… His townhouse is several times larger than ours.”

Then, as if realizing she was talking to herself, she waved her hand dismissively.

Not long after, the servant returned with two glasses and two bottles.

The woman poured wine into her own glass and handed the other glass to Cecilia.

“This is just grape juice mixed with sparkling water. Let’s at least pretend to have a drink together.”

Cecilia gladly accepted the glass.

The viscountess moistened her lips with her wine and began asking about Cecilia. How was the Lasphilla family doing these days? Was life in the central region much different from the capital, and what were the latest trends? She even asked about Bernarda out of politeness, though she didn’t seem particularly interested.

This was a relief. Cecilia would have found it difficult to answer some of the more personal questions.

After listening to Cecilia’s responses as a formality, the viscountess resumed talking about herself.

“The central region’s weather is quite similar to the capital’s. Our estate, as you know, borders the port, so the sea breeze is incredibly humid. Every summer, it’s so stifling that I dream of owning a summer villa near the northern mountains.”

The viscountess wrinkled her nose in a bored expression.

“But at least the scenery is beautiful. You should come visit sometime.”

The fact that she extended such an invitation suggested Cecilia had made a favorable impression on her.

Whether or not she’d actually extend an invitation after getting to know Cecilia better was uncertain, but for now, Cecilia graciously accepted the offer.

As they chatted, the viscountess emptied several more glasses of wine. Her face, already powdered pink, was now flushed red.

Growing even more candid under the influence of alcohol, she began to grumble about her party with a tearful expression.

“I really didn’t want to host this party. I did it out of spite. I knew all along it would turn out like this, but… That’s just how I am. Even when I know the outcome, I can’t accept it until I see it for myself!”

Her voice, thick with regret and frustration, dropped another name.

“If it weren’t for that woman Helena, I never would have done something this foolish!”

Cecilia’s eyes gleamed.

“Helena? Who is she?”

“Humph, a ‘young miss’ so to say? But that’s too grand a title for a woman who’s already a grandmother!”

Viscountess Odridge scoffed in disgust, turning her head away.

“Oh, so she’s a married woman, then?”

“She married ages ago.”

The viscountess sneered.

“Viscount Lope, that fool, got himself shackled to a woman as explosive as a bomb. He was completely swept off his feet just by her looks.”