Guidelines for the Perfect Goodbye - Chapter 63
Cecilia dreamt of a life flashing by, tainted with all manners of disgrace and humiliation.
“Cecilia has always been mentally unstable. Perhaps she inherited some genetic illness from her gypsy mother.”
Bernarda condemned her stepdaughter.
“That girl… she always coveted my belongings since she was young. Probably, because there had been a falling out between Lord Pierce and herself, she deliberately orchestrated a scandal smearing my good name.”
Caroline slandered her sister.
“That promiscuous woman does not deserve the legacy of Viscount Harper, who was faithful to his family.”
Duke Pierce deprecated his daughter-in-law.
And her own father…
“Do not ask me anything. That girl was never my child.”
He completely disowned his daughter.
A man laughed at the sight.
Christian Pierce.
His finger pointed mockingly at Cecilia.
“See, I told you you’d regret it.”
‘All of you… shut up.’
Cecilia groaned in her dream.
She desperately wanted to wake up but felt paralyzed, unable to open her eyes easily.
What if this was reality?
What if she had gone mad, believing herself to have returned to the past, lost in vain delusions?
What if she was still in hell…
“Cecilia.”
Someone called her in a low voice.
“As ever, you’re still a heavy sleeper.”
A voice without highs and lows. When they occasionally shared a bedroom, after the fact, he would always wear his neat uniform, his back to her.
He was a man of military discipline, always waking early.
“It’s time to wake up.”
At his command, Cecilia finally broke free from the nightmare.
Her body ached as if beaten with clubs, and she felt the dampness of the sweat-soaked blanket.
“It hurts…”
She moaned in pain, and someone sitting beside her awkwardly stood up to check on her.
Red hair flickered in Cecilia’s blurry vision.
‘Mom?’
Lilith would stay by Cecilia’s bedside every night when she was sick. Despite nodding off like a drowsy chicken, she never lay down to sleep.
Cecilia raised her hand to stroke her mother’s head, concerned for her well-being even amidst her own pain.
“I’m okay…”
She forced a bright smile to reassure her.
“Don’t worry.”
But her assurance was short-lived as she quickly fell unconscious again.
She faintly heard Lilith’s response in her fading consciousness.
“Who’s worried about who, you brat…”
Cecilia drifted back into sleep.
***
When she finally awoke properly, it was late afternoon, the twilight hour.
Cecilia found herself on a long sofa in the first-floor living room.
“Ugh…”
She groaned as she sat up, her head throbbing as if on cue.
What happened?
She slowly retraced her last memories.
‘Right. I fell from Caroline’s room…’
She examined her body, noting scratches and bruises, but thankfully, getting caught at that tree branch seemed to have prevented any fractures or severe concussions.
‘I’m lucky to be alive.’
This was a thought she often had.
For someone living on borrowed time, she seemed to have a long lifeline.
‘Where is everyone else?’
She wondered, glancing at the indented seat next to her on the one-person sofa. It seemed someone had been sitting there for quite a while…
Slowly standing up, she limped a few steps toward the door to turn the doorknob.
Just then, unexpectedly, the door opened from the outside.
“Huh?”
Cecilia lost her balance as the door suddenly opened.
“Oh.”
The person who opened the door quickly grabbed her arm to steady her.
“Are you okay?”
Ulysses asked.
“Why are you here?”
Cecilia quickly regained her composure and responded nonchalantly.
“Why am I here?”
Ulysses raised an eyebrow.
“This is the living room.”
“…Ah.”
Maybe it was the head injury, but she had just asked a rather stupid question.
A wave of embarrassment washed over her, but she managed to change the subject with her innate brazenness.
“Why haven’t you left yet? I thought you were going back today.”
“How could I pack up and leave when some monkey decided to fall out of a tree?”
“Monkey… Are you talking about me?”
Cecilia pointed to herself.
“Who else?”
Ulysses finished his response and gestured towards the sofa with his chin.
“Lie back down. The doctor said you might have a mild concussion. If you try to move to your room now, you might not just fall from a tree, but also end up rolling down the stairs.”
“I’ll take care of myself.”
“Is stubbornness a family trait?”
