Guidelines for the Perfect Goodbye - Chapter 196

‘But… he didn’t even glance at me once.’

There were a few times during the party when their eyes accidentally met. Each time, Caroline instinctively raised her head to follow Ulysses’ path.

But he simply passed by. She saw the back of his neck more often than his eyes that day. In those moments, Caroline’s heart, which had been pounding, felt like it was being torn apart.

‘Are you really going to just stand by? Are you sure you won’t regret it?’

Christian was the heir to the Pierce Duchy, one of the hosts of the party. She had been chosen by the host of the party. There was no way Ulysses could see that and not change his mind.

‘Yes, I’m sure he’s feeling terrible inside. He’s probably too scared to approach because I’m so close to Christian. What a coward!’

That coward, Ulysses, surely wanted to beg for forgiveness but couldn’t do it openly. He would probably end up secretly sending a letter or a bouquet, writing an elaborate apology, wasting ink to beg forgiveness for not recognizing such a beautiful and excellent woman.

Then she would respond like this:

Thank you for saying that. But it seems that our connection ends here. I’ve already met someone new, and my time with him has been truly wonderful. Perhaps while I was with you, I longed for conversations with someone more intellectual. Now that I know what true love is, I don’t think I can ever return to those days. I’m sorry. I hope you meet someone good as well.

To reject the man who once rejected her—that would erase the past, and it would be as if she had been the one to reject him in the first place.

There could be no more satisfying or thrilling conclusion!

And so, Caroline waited from the early hours of the morning for a letter from Ulysses. She even imagined him sending forget-me-nots, which symbolize ‘don’t forget me’.

Then she would dry some yellow and red carnations and include them in her letter of rejection. The thought of how he would feel after receiving a polite yet mocking letter already delighted her.

However, the front door remained quiet. Her servants brought no new letters.

“…”

Why? Was he still too hesitant to apologize to her? Or could it be that he really…

‘He doesn’t even regret it?’

Even after seeing her that day?

‘Why?’

Caroline gripped the curtains tightly as she looked out the window. In her other hand, she held a letter.

It was the rejection letter she had hastily written after returning from the party at dawn, without even changing out of her dress. The letter she wrote to mock Ulysses never reached him in the end.

Sending a reply when there was no letter in the first place was the act of a madwoman.

The letter crumpled in her grip, and her excited expression turned into one of frustration.

As Caroline burned the unsent letter in the candle flame, she continued to agonize over the reason.

With a perspective like hers, given that her sense of self was so dependent on the opinions of others, she couldn’t understand why Ulysses wasn’t groveling at her feet.

‘What could I possibly be lacking? I’m perfect as I am!’

Her anger began to rise. Feeling like she needed to wash her face to clear her head, she stepped outside, only for Margaret to quickly follow her out of the next room.

It was as if Margaret had been waiting all along for an opportunity to tease her older sister.

“Sister, Sister! Did you get a bouquet today?”

“What?”

“I heard that when you attend a party in the capital’s social circles, the most beautiful and gorgeous women receive proposals and bouquets one after another! Viscountess Lope received so many bouquets when she was a maiden that her entire house looked like a flower garden!”

“…So what does Viscountess Lope have to do with me?”

“I mean… Sister, you’re beautiful.”

Margaret grinned mischievously as she spoke.

“Since you don’t have a fiancé anymore, I thought for sure you’d get looots of bouquets.”

“…”

“Can I go inside and take a look?”

Caroline glared at her. For a moment, her emotions nearly got the better of her, and she almost slapped Margaret’s cheek.

But this wasn’t the Coffret Manor—it was the townhouse. It was smaller, meaning rumors spread faster and more eyes were watching.

Caroline took a deep breath and exhaled, smiling.

“Margaret, it doesn’t matter whether I get ten or a hundred bouquets.”

“Why?”

“They mean nothing to me. All I need is the love of one person.”

“Could that one person be the Young Duke Pierce?”

“Yes. Who else could it be?”

“Pfft…”

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