Chapter 10

His Second Act of Stupidity

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"I don't want to marry you."

Eric's own words hung in the air like an anvil in the middle of the garden, so that even the birds seemed to stop chirping, as if nature itself needed a moment to process what he'd just said.

Wait—what did I say?

Eric's brain finally caught up with his mouth, but by then it was far too late to take it back.

Oh no! Oh, shit! Did I actually say that out loud?

And judging by Annette's shocked and confused face, yes. Yes, he absolutely did. Her expression was obviously a mix of surprise and disbelief. This kind screams, "Did this idiot just reject me to my face?!"

But of course, that was just Eric's imagination running wild at this moment. He had no idea what Annette was actually thinking. But if she really wasn't offended by what he had said, then she was doing an excellent job of hiding it. Either way, after what he said, Eric was sure that no one could recover from this kind of disaster without God's divine intervention.

However, Lady Annette's reaction was the opposite of what he expected. She calmly set down her cup, folded her hands neatly, and gave her response.

"I see. So that's how it is, Eric."

Eric gulped hard.

Something in Annette's smile and tone told him that this conversation was far from over.

And deep down, he knew...

He had just made things so much worse.

"Uhm...wait...I..."

Eric almost went over to her to apologize, but his brain screamed at him to stop, saying, "Don't make it worse!" Which prevented him from moving in his seat

"Wait, I—I'm so sorry, Lady Annette! Just let me correct what I have said!" Eric took a shaky breath while trying to gather his thoughts, "What I'm really trying to say is that I didn't want to get married because—"

"Because...you don't want me?" Annette stared into Eric's eyes, the kind that shimmers with what seemed like pure heartbreak, and Eric immediately panicked the moment he saw it.

Oh no! Those eyes! Eric thought frantically to himself. He'd seen that exact look on the tragic heroines of stage plays countless times; the eyes of a woman whose pride and dignity had just been completely, utterly stomped on.

Desperate to fix the misunderstanding, Eric scrambled to speak and said...

"N-No! Not like that! Actually, I—I like you! But—"

"You like me?" Annette repeated softly. Her eyes suddenly brightened with a faint glimmer of hope. But the thing was...it wasn't what Eric meant either. No, not even close!

Eric almost slapped a hand over his face and blurted out, "No, listen. I mean, I like you, but not in the way you're thinking! I mean—I don't love you!"

But the moment the words left Eric's mouth, he instantly realized that what he had said was even worse than "I don't want to marry you."

Annette's eyes began to glisten, and before Eric could even process what he had done, tears started to fall from Lady Annette's eyes.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no—she's crying!

"Wait—please don't cry!" Eric instantly panicked, jumping to his feet and waving his hands helplessly, as if that would somehow stop her tears. "I'm sorry, Lady Annette! Please, I didn't mean it like that!"

Annette quickly turned her head away from Eric while simply sniffling and dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief. That's when Eric realized how awkward their situation had become, and he didn't know how to stop it. He even wanted to cry and join Annette in her sobs.

"Where did I go wrong?" Eric's soul was crying louder than his voice. "Why is fate doing this to me?!"

But before the young man could even sink deeper into self-pity, Annette suddenly lifted her head. The tears were still there, fresh in her eyes. But now, there was something else there, too.

Eric froze the moment he sensed the sudden shift in Annette's aura.

"I'm sorry if I have to say this, Mr. Vale—no, Eric."

"W-wait, what...?"

Then, with all the courage Annette could possibly summon, she fearlessly declared:

"The truth is, I like you, Eric! I want to marry you!"

For a moment, silence filled the garden, and Eric's mind went completely blank.

Wait—she what?!

Despite Eric's continued recovery from her confession, Annette decided to proceed.

"I know this might sound sudden, but..." The young lady clasped her trembling hands together in her lap. Her eyes were darting between Eric and the teacup as if she were trying to find the courage in either of them. "Ever since we were children, I... I've always liked you, Eric."

Eric blinked.

Children?

Now that he thought about it, Eric suddenly remembered that he and Annette had met once before, back when they were about ten years old, at one of those fancy garden parties their fathers used to organize.

And now that Annette mentioned it, the memory of that time hit him like a brick.

Oh, that party?

That's right. The one where Eric, in all his ten-year-old clumsiness and social awkwardness, had tripped over a decorative hedge while trying to avoid talking to adults. And in the process, he accidentally dumped an entire glass of orange juice all over a little girl in a frilly white dress.

Annette's frilly white dress.

Eric's eyes widened as he slowly put the pieces together.

Don't tell me...this is that same girl?!

"You probably don't remember it," she said with a soft, nostalgic smile. But she was also completely unaware of the internal meltdown happening inside Eric's mind. "But that day, you apologized to me so many times, just like now. You even gave me your handkerchief and told me not to cry. This..." she showed the handkerchief she was using. "This is the handkerchief you gave me that day. Ever since then, I thought you were very kind. So... I guess, that's when it started."

Eric felt as though his entire soul had left his body.

Wait a minute! Is she telling me that's where she first liked me?!

Back then, he hadn't been trying to be a gentleman at all. He didn't even know what being a gentleman meant for a ten-year-old! He'd only given her his handkerchief because he was terrified both their fathers would scold him for ruining her expensive dress.

And now, years later, here she was—beautiful, graceful, and apparently still remembering that fateful orange juice incident like it was a scene from some romantic childhood fairytale. And yet, Eric here could only stare at her in disbelief, internally screaming at his ten-year-old self.

I spilled juice on her once...and now that's the reason she wants to marry me?!

Eric's mind was spinning so fast it could've powered the entire garden. Annette, on the other hand, was staring at him with those hopeful, glistening eyes, the kind of eyes that could guilt-trip a saint. And worse, she looked as though she was ready to cry again.

But Eric was perfectly clear about what he wanted, no matter how Annette felt. Yes, he didn't want to hurt her (that was the last thing he wanted), but making her expect to love him back—that simply wasn't there? That would be even worse.

This engagement needed to end.

But first—he needed to think.

Think, Eric. THINK!

And then, he said.

"Annette, I—I..." Eric's brain is doing its best to come up with a random excuse, "The thing is, I can't marry you because I... I'm already..."

Annette leaned closer with her eyes wide with anticipation. "You're already what, Eric?"

And before his sanity could stop him, his mouth betrayed him completely.

"I'm already seeing someone!" he blurted out of impulse. "In fact—uh—I'm gay!"