As she passed by the study, she noticed that the study’s door was open, and Cristofer was reading in his wheelchair.
Upon seeing her, Cristofer briefly glanced at her and asked, “Have you had dinner?”
“Yes,” Estelle replied.
The conversation felt a bit awkward, and besides this topic, they didn’t know what else to talk about at the moment.
‘What should we talk about? Gretchen was executed today. Or should I tell him that I know he played a role in Gretchen’s quick punishment? Forget it. Let’s stick to something safe,’ she thought helplessly. So, she broke the silence, “Did we get a new chef? The dishes today tasted different from before.”
Returning his attention to the book, Cristofer replied in a gentle tone, “No.”
“Well, maybe they changed the cooking method,” Estelle said.
“Did you like the dishes?” Cristofer asked briefly.
“Not bad,” Estelle replied. “And… They tasted like I cooked them.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed them,” Cristofer said.
“Mm,” Estelle nodded and said, “I’m going to take a shower.”
“Okay.”
Estelle returned to the bedroom, picked out some fresh clothes from the wardrobe, and then took a shower in the bathroom. After her shower, she felt a bit less tired.
When she emerged from the bathroom, only a small night lamp lit up the bedroom, and she saw Cristofer lying on the bed with his back turned. It was hard to tell if he was asleep or not. Estelle quietly approached and turned off the lamp. Just as she was about to get into bed, she heard Cristofer sigh.
In the darkness, Estelle paused and asked, “… Were you sleeping just now?”
“Yes.”
“… Did I wake you up?” Estelle asked.
“No, I just suddenly woke up,” Cristofer replied.
“You haven’t been sleeping well lately, have you?” Estelle asked.
Instead of answering her question, Cristofer said, “Dry your hair.”
“…”
“It’s not good to sleep with wet hair. Please go and dry it now.”
Hearing this, Estelle furrowed her brow and replied, “I already dried it with a towel.”
“It’s not completely dry. Have you forgotten that in the winter many years ago, you went to bed without drying your hair and caught a cold on the second day?” Cristofer reminded her.
Estelle countered, “That was because you were riding your bicycle too fast, and the moving air turned into cold wind, which made me catch a cold. It had nothing to do with not drying my hair.”
“You were in the backseat. Even if there was a cold wind, I was the one facing it, and I shielded you from it. Yet, you were the one who got sick,” Cristofer pointed out.
“That’s because your immune system is stronger than mine,” Estelle argued.
“In that case, please go and dry your hair now,” Cristofer insisted.
Estelle’s mind was momentarily filled with memories from their student days.
“Estelle,” Cristofer said with a softened tone, “It’s not easy for me to help you dry your hair. Can you manage it on your own?”
Estelle felt taken aback by his request, sensing a hint of vulnerability in his voice. She briefly wondered if she had misunderstood him. After a few seconds, she went to the bathroom, grabbed the hair dryer, returned to the bedroom, and sat on the edge of the bed to dry her hair. The gentle scent of jasmine from her hair and body seemed to have a calming effect on Cristofer.
A few minutes later, the hair dryer’s noise subsided. Estelle broke the silence, saying, “I visited Gretchen in prison today.”
“I’m aware,” Cristofer replied calmly.
“I know you’re aware,” Estelle said, feeling her words stumbling over each other.
“Is there something you want to ask me?” Estelle asked.
Cristofer remained silent for a moment before asking with a hint of pleading in his tone, “Can I?”
Upon hearing this, Estelle nodded, but she realized he couldn’t see her nod in the darkness, so she softly replied, “Of course.”
“Gretchen is gone. Are you content with this outcome?” Cristofer asked.
“Yes,” Estelle replied. “She committed many terrible deeds. She got what she deserved.”
“You didn’t actually witness her execution, did you?” Cristofer asked.
Surprised, Estelle responded, “How did you know?”
Cristofer chuckled and said, “I just had a feeling.”
Estelle smiled, thinking, ‘You’ve always been like this. Even when you were Mr. Mysterious, you could often guess my thoughts and actions.’
“What about you? Did you go to see her one last time? After all, you two were in a relationship,” Estelle asked.
“If I had known the truth earlier, I would never have been in a relationship with her,” Cristofer stated firmly.
Licking her lips, Estelle hesitated for a moment before asking, “Gretchen claimed that you didn’t travel the world with her back then but stayed in Lanster for a year. Is that true?”
“Yes,” Cristofer confirmed, not surprised by her question.
“Lanster is so small, and a week is enough to see everything interesting. What did you do during that year?” Estelle curiously asked.
“Nothing, really,” Cristofer replied. “When you were studying in Lanster, I was always swamped with work and rarely had the chance to visit you. So, I went there to see the city you used to live in and see if there was any trace of you.”
“But back then, you hated me so much that you even wished for my death so you could marry Gretchen,” Estelle pointed out.
Cristofer smiled bitterly at the memory and said, “Maybe it was because I had a split personality. I loathed you with all my being, yet, at the same time, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
After Cristofer finished his words, there was a moment of silence in the bedroom. All the lights had been turned off, and the sky outside was overcast, with no moon or stars visible tonight due to bad weather.
In the darkness, Estelle couldn’t see anything, and her other senses sharpened. Although they weren’t physically close, Estelle could hear the rapid beating of Cristofer’s heart. In her experience, Cristofer had always been composed and steady, so hearing his heartbeats made her wonder if she had misheard it.
Biting her lip, she said, “You… We agreed to put the past behind us, right? Let’s start over as friends.”
“Okay,” Cristofer replied gently. “Let’s forgive and forget.”
Suddenly, Estelle asked, “Did you take a shower today?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ask Uncle Luke’s help?”
“No. I’m not that helpless. Uncle Luke helped me get my wheelchair into the shower stall, but I showered on my own.”
Hearing this, Estelle nodded and asked, “Do your legs still hurt?”
“Sometimes, they do,” Cristofer admitted.