A Story Without The Villains Is Boring

Chapter 42: Nice Weather

Hearing this guy's story that I've been listening to, I don't have any expression. It was blank.

I mean, that kid he was talking about was definitely not me. It was the original Sabrina, and how am I supposed to answer him?

I don't want to make things go awkward, and because he's already done opening his mouth, it was my turn.

“So that's it... You still remember that even after years have passed?”

“Yes, I sure did. The memory is still as clear as the weather today.”

Him saying ‘it was clear as the weather today’ made me glance at my back, towards the nearest window to see if the weather was really clear.

But...

Nope. It was not. The sky was in the shade of grey. Nimbus clouds were visible in the sky. Is he joking or did he forget to rain check today?

“I agree with you. The weather is really clear. Perhaps it was an hour before this time.”

And with that, he tilted his head and shrugged. He didn't understand what I said. Me neither.

To sum it up, I don't really care about his story or whatever. I thought he was just going to complain. Who could have thought he would talk about his story for two long chapters long?

My head was all foggy, and if I stand up now, I'll literally feel dizzy since my blood pressure would rise sky-high from being low.

“My dear fiance, I am so sorry for what I have done. I greatly apologize,” I softly spoke to him, with my head bent down.

“Yes, that is what I like.”

I don't know, but the vein on the temple of my head seems to throb.

“Oh really? I apologized. It will happen again.”

But to my surprise and anger, his usual default face was not found on his face.

“Confused?” He replied with a slight grin. “I know you would reply like that.”

As expected, he seems to be adapting to my behavior as well.

“So everything is cleared up from now, right?” I told him out of the blue.

“If you say so, it is.”

I did apologize to him, but it was a half-assed apology. And I couldn't really relate since I'm not the real Sabrina.

“Ray, can I ask you a question?”

“Is this about my cousin Sherly? I will call her now to beg for an apology for you,” he answered abruptly.

“No, it's about you,” I responded. “It looks like you have some mental disease or something. Have you gone to a psychiatrist or rehabilitation center yet?”

And the look that I received from him was disbelief, dumbfounded, perplexed, and his mouth gaped in astonishment.

“I... I do not understand what the young lady is talking about.”

Also, as expected, a rehabilitation center for mental illness or a psyc ward still hasn't been invented here yet?

Fret not. I'll ask my parents to build one, and you'll be the first patient.

“You look puzzled, Ray. What I mean is, I think you have an unstable persona—"

“What have I done?! I forgot that my fiancée was still in the middle of her recovery. I will not disturb you any longer,” he said, and I couldn't tell if he was changing the topic. But it was clear that the worry he had for me was genuine.

Standing up from his seat, he offered his hand to me, and I accepted it. Then, Ray slightly bowed and kissed the back of my right hand.

“I will go for now, my dear.”

Then he left the room, leaving me with no concrete answer and astounded.

What was that? Is he trying to escape? Or does his mental illness need to be kept a secret?

◇◆◇

“What was your verdict? Do you like her?”

A voice of a grown-up man echoed throughout the whole room.

“The young miss of Elsteel family?” The respondent, a fine girl with wavy hair, tried to confirm.

“She was really bold and harsh! I really liked her!! She's qualified to be friends with me! Ahh, I can't imagine bullying someone together with her! I bet she'll kill them with her poisonous choice of words that came out from her small mouth, ahhh....!”

She could not hide her euphoric expression. Looking up like someone who was elated due to a dopamine overdose.

“For you to make a comment like that, she seems to be a nice person befitting the title of our last name,” the man replied.

With her thighs trembling down to her legs, this lustful behavior had made the person she was talking to disgusted.

“Sherly, stop. You took too many drugs. And stop moaning.”

“I am deeply sorry for the appearance I showed to you, Uncle. I cannot help fantasizing about her.”

And so the man gestured his hand at her as if he was dismissing her, signaling her to leave.

“Then I will,” she responded with a bow. “Sherly Le’adeire will take her leave.”