I’ve Decided to Let You Go - Chapter 58

“I’ll step out for a bit.”

With that short comment, Sieghart left the square and headed toward the marketplace.

It was their wedding anniversary, and he couldn’t face his wife without preparing something. But he also knew that if he presented a clearly pre-arranged gift, she would feel uncomfortable.

So Sieghart settled on flowers, under the excuse of spontaneity. He had already planned out the exact arrangement and even picked each flower in advance, which made the act anything but impulsive. Still, Natasha wouldn’t know that, and that was enough.

He visited a flower shop and made a request to the owner.

“Are these for your girlfriend?” the shopkeeper asked.

“Why do you ask?” Sieghart replied.

“You just look kind of nervous.”

Hearing that, Sieghart instinctively rubbed his face. His jaw felt tight, the tension clear even through his fingertips.

Nervous. Yes, that made sense.

It was natural to feel that way in front of her. Not once had he been in her presence without feeling shaken. She was too pure, too untouchable.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he finally said.

The shopkeeper waited.

“She’s someone I want to confess to.”

His quiet response made the shopkeeper smile brightly.

“You must really like her, if you remember all her favorite flowers.”

He did love her. But he kept that answer to himself.

Sieghart didn’t sit down while he waited. He stood the whole time, even though it would take a while to finish. Sensing his urgency, the shopkeeper moved faster than usual.

“Here it is! I really hope it goes well for you!”

Smiling brightly, she handed him a large bouquet.

Holding the flowers carefully, Sieghart made his way back to the square.

The plaza was crowded with people milling around the fountain. Even if he tried to understand her, he would never be able to relate to the way she found beauty in these bustling, noisy scenes.

To him, only one person mattered. The rest were nothing more than background noise.

From a distance, he could see her. She looked so small, like a single dot.

Her golden hair moved gently with the breeze, glowing red under the setting sun. Her face was quiet as she looked around, until finally, she settled her gaze on something. A faint smile appeared on her elegant face.

From where he stood, her view was blocked by the crowd. And it was too far. Whatever she was looking at, it wasn’t him.

After all, there was no reason for her to smile at him. Even when she scoffed at him, he clung to that expression, interpreting it as he wished, letting it distract him for the rest of the day.

And yet, Sieghart couldn’t help but hope that smile was meant for him. He wished for it, with a quiet desperation.

Remembering her gentle smile, he walked forward. The children who swarmed around him because of the bouquet were a bit of a nuisance, but they helped him earn a moment of her attention. That alone made it worth it.

A confession, he thought.

If I confessed, she would probably run away. Her red eyes might fill with disgust.

So, for now, he decided to keep protecting the truth she chose to ignore. What Sieghart Aschart needed was patience. Until he could overcome his mistakes, he had to restrain his impulses.

Finally, he stood in front of her.

Natasha, who had been relaxed, suddenly straightened. Her back became rigid, and the veins on her hands showed as she clenched her fingers. The fabric of her skirt creased where her hands pressed down.

“I know today may not be a happy occasion for you, but I still wanted to celebrate it,” he said.

She said nothing.

“For enduring this marriage with someone you don’t love, and for putting up with this hollow affection, thank you.”

He gently pushed the bouquet into her hands, since she wouldn’t reach for it herself.

Realizing she couldn’t avoid it, Natasha reluctantly accepted the flowers. Even if the gift wasn’t welcome, the bouquet was beautiful, and she found herself gazing at it silently. Then she spoke.

“Sieghart, you’re acting strange.”

He didn’t answer, only raised one eyebrow slightly.

“You keep doing things like this, even though you already know. I know all your secrets, you know. So gestures like these won’t work on me. Not ever.”

“That’s not true,” he said suddenly.

His denial was meant to challenge her claim that she knew everything about him. But Natasha seemed to think he was denying something else entirely.

Sieghart didn’t correct her. It didn’t matter. Right now, just seeing her face was enough.

The sun was slowly setting. Since they had planned to spend their last evening in the duchy with the Marquis and Marchioness of Veliaché, it was time to return to the estate.

Right on time, the coachman arrived and guided them to the carriage.

With Sieghart’s help, Natasha stepped inside and took her seat.

From this lower angle, the bouquet in her lap looked even larger. In the enclosed space, the scent of the flowers felt stronger and sweeter than before.

Flowers.

For someone like Sieghart, who usually solved everything with money or force it was surprisingly thoughtful.

These days, Sieghart Aschart really did seem different.

Even if he had done it just to win her over, the fact that he had chosen her hometown as their anniversary destination said something. It wasn’t like him. The Sieghart she used to know would have picked the most extravagant, glamorous location possible.

Natasha inhaled deeply, the floral scent tickling her nose. The scenery outside the window had grown familiar again.

This was the only moment she could say it.

“Sieghart,” she said quietly.

Without realizing it, she found herself matching his tone—gentle, a little softer than usual.

“There’s still something I need to find out. It’s serious, and it really matters to me. But… once I do, I think the anger I feel toward you might ease a little.”

He didn’t answer right away.

“Just a little,” she added softly.

That kind of statement could only come from someone who believed, deep down, that he might be innocent. After she said it, Natasha caught the subtle difference in her own words and felt strange about it.

Was she really starting to believe in his innocence?

It didn’t make sense. Whether it was this Sieghart or the one from her past life, both had caused her pain. Assuming someone else had set him up was not just bold—it was reckless.

“I’ll wait,” he said.

His firm answer cut through her spiraling thoughts.

He spoke as if he’d wait years if he had to.

After enjoying a warm dinner at the Veliaché estate, the two returned to the capital in the carriage the marquis couple had prepared. From the duchy to the Aschart territory, it would take at least a full day and another half by carriage if they traveled slowly.

As always, Sieghart sat across from her, quietly passing the time. He leaned on his hand, staring out the window, but the moment Natasha looked away, he turned his gaze toward her again.

She frowned, annoyed by his attention, but her expression softened as her eyes landed on something. A sturdy vase and a colorful bouquet were resting by the window, calming her mood.

Her elegant posture began to relax as the ride went on. The cold distance she maintained toward him also started to shift. Every so often, she would glance at him without thinking.

When the long journey began to wear her out, she eventually drifted off.

The carriage rattled now and then as it rolled over uneven ground. No matter how well made or spacious it was, it couldn’t fully smooth the bumps on a country road.

Natasha’s eyes opened halfway. Her blurry vision caught the empty seat across from her.

That was when she felt it, warmth beside her.

She became aware of it the moment someone’s absence turned into presence. Something warm and firm wrapped around her hand. It was steady, unshakable, and enough to chase away the fog of sleep.

There was no need to pretend here. No one was watching. There was no reason for him to act like a devoted husband. And she hated that kind of false kindness—Sieghart knew that better than anyone.

Still, her lips didn’t move. The weight of her head leaning against his shoulder remained.

Natasha closed her eyes again. It was just sleep taking over, something simple and human.

The fifteen days they had spent traveling together, which hadn’t seemed short at first, passed faster than she’d expected. Just as Sieghart had once said, it hadn’t felt long at all. Instead, it left behind a strange sense of longing.

Outside the carriage, the coachman called out that they had arrived. The door opened, and Sieghart stepped out first.

Just before he completely left the carriage, Natasha reached out and grabbed the edge of his coat.

Before he could turn to look at her, she spoke first.

“You know this already, but no matter how hard you try, I’m not going to open my heart so easily.”

He stayed silent.

“But… thank you. For bringing me here. I always wanted to come, but I didn’t have the courage. I kept going to places that didn’t mean anything because I was too afraid. But now, thanks to you, I feel like I’ll be able to come back whenever I miss it. Whenever I feel homesick.”

For a moment, it felt like the world had stopped. His tall frame stood completely still. Then finally, he stepped back toward her and offered his hand to escort her out.

“I’m glad I could do something that brought you peace.”

His voice, strangely warm and gentle, didn’t feel like it belonged to the Sieghart she used to know.

“I’ll keep doing my best here too,” he said. “So that you can keep smiling.”

He smiled at her—softly, calmly, and in a way that felt deeply familiar. Maybe not to the Natasha of her past, but certainly to the one standing here now.

The voices that had haunted her stayed quiet. Maybe they were keeping their promise. Or maybe, because Sieghart was here with her, they didn’t dare show up.

Or maybe… it was something else.

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