Chapter 227: Past Life [2]

"Do you still love Gordon?"

Ambrosia fell silent, her spoon hovering above the small cup of ice cream in her hand.

She lowered it and watched the dessert slowly melt, a thin trail of cream sliding down the side of the cup.

For a moment, Amon wondered whether he had asked something he shouldn’t have.

He didn’t rush her, though, and let the silence between them.

Ambrosia took a small bite before answering. "Gordon was a good man."

There was warmth in her voice, but also a sadness that had not entirely faded with time.

She looked down the road, then began walking slowly, holding her ice cream in one hand while Amon fell into step beside her.

"Do you know how we met?" she asked.

Amon shook his head. "You’ve never told me the whole story."

"There’s not much to tell. Our marriage was arranged by my mother." Ambrosia gave a faint, rueful smile. "She had decided Gordon was a suitable husband for me before I even met him. I was supposed to accept her decision and be grateful that she had found someone so respectable."

She paused to taste her ice cream, then continued as they walked along the quiet pavement.

"At first, I didn’t want anything to do with him. I wanted to live my own life, build my career, and see the world without having to answer to a husband. I had plans of my own, and I hated the thought of someone else deciding what my future should look like."

"Did you tell your mother that?"

"Many times." Ambrosia laughed quietly, though there wasn’t much humor in it. "We argued constantly. She insisted she knew what was best for me, and I insisted that I could make my own decisions. Neither of us was willing to give in."

She looked toward the windows of a nearby building, where warm light spilled through the curtains.

"If she hadn’t pushed me into that marriage, I might never have married Gordon at all."

Amon studied her expression before asking, "Do you regret marrying him?"

Ambrosia turned toward him at once and shook her head. "No. Never."

Her answer was firm, without even a moment’s hesitation.

"I didn’t want that marriage in the beginning, but Gordon treated me well. He was patient with me, even when I made it difficult for him. And I was blessed with Sidney." Her expression softened as she mentioned her daughter. "She’s a wonderful child. Whatever else happened in my life, I will never regret having her."

Amon fell quiet. He couldn’t feel the love Ambrosia had for Gordon, but he could hear the longing in her voice.

Ambrosia ate another spoonful, then glanced at him. He had grown unusually quiet, his gaze lowered toward the pavement.

"What’s wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing. I was just thinking."

She narrowed her eyes, then reached over and gave his cheek a playful pinch. "Is my baby jealous?"

Amon blinked at her. "Why would I be jealous?"

"Because I was talking about another man."

"That man was your husband!"

"And?"

He stared at her for a moment before laughing helplessly. "..I have nothing to say."

Ambrosia giggled, clearly pleased with herself, then slipped her hand into his.

Her fingers intertwined with his as they continued walking, and her teasing expression gradually gave way to something more thoughtful.

"What happened to me belongs to the past," she said softly. "Gordon was an important part of my life, and I won’t pretend otherwise. But I can’t spend the rest of my life looking backward."

She squeezed his hand gently.

"I’ve spent years worrying about everyone else: my mother, my work, my responsibilities, and whether I was doing enough for Sidney."

"After Gordon died, I kept telling myself that I had to stay strong and keep moving forward. Sometimes, I wonder whether I ever learned how to live for myself."

Amon listened without interrupting. The street had grown quieter, and their footsteps were now the loudest sound around them.

"Then you came into our lives," Ambrosia continued. "You’ve reminded me that life isn’t only about work and responsibilities. I can enjoy a meal, take a walk, or spend an afternoon laughing about something silly without feeling guilty for leaving other things unfinished."

She looked at him with a gentle, affectionate expression.

"If not for you, I might have become so overwhelmed that I forgot how to enjoy anything. You helped me realize that I still have a future of my own, even if it isn’t the future I once imagined."

Amon didn’t know what to say.

He could see that she wasn’t asking him to erase her memories or replace someone who had mattered to her.

She wanted to move forward without carrying the weight of the past into every new day.

"I want to build a life where I can care for the people I love without losing myself," Ambrosia said. "I want to stop living as though everything is already decided for me."

She gave his hand another squeeze and smiled brightly. "Will you help me do that?"

Amon held her gaze, but before he could answer, she slowed and turned her attention toward a building across the street.

He followed her eyes.

It was a hotel, its entrance framed by warm lights.

A few guests passed through the glass doors while an employee stood near the reception desk inside.

Ambrosia squeezed his hand. "Let’s go."

Amon stared at her, momentarily unsure what to say.

She had already started toward the entrance, however, and he followed her inside.

The lobby was quiet, with polished floors, potted plants, and soft lights reflected across the walls.

Ambrosia spoke briefly with the receptionist while Amon waited beside her, trying to understand what she had in mind.

Soon afterward, she led him toward the elevator, still holding his hand.

They rode upward in silence.

Amon glanced at her once or twice, hoping to find some clue in her expression, but she only gave him a small smile.

When the doors opened, she guided him along the corridor to a room near the end.

Inside, the room was neat and warmly lit.

Ambrosia set her handbag aside and looked at him for a moment before heading into the bathroom.

"I’ll take a quick shower," she said. "The walk made me feel warmer than I expected."

Amon nodded, though his thoughts were already racing.

The bathroom door closed, and soon the sound of running water filled the room.

He sat on the edge of the bed and leaned back against the headboard, closing his eyes.

He had faced dangerous monsters, explored dungeons, and dealt with powerful people without losing his composure.

Yet here he was, struggling to settle his thoughts in an ordinary hotel room.

’...Calm down, Amon. You’re acting as though you’re about to fight the final boss.’

The thought nearly made him laugh, but his nerves remained.

He took a slow breath, then another, trying to bring his thoughts into order.

After several minutes, the shower stopped.

Amon opened his eyes when he heard the bathroom door unlock.

Ambrosia emerged wearing a bathrobe, rubbing her damp hair with a second towel.

She looked more relaxed than before and smiled when she noticed him watching her.

"A shower really helps calm your mood," she said. "I feel much better now."

Amon took a steadying breath and stood.

He walked toward her, trying to keep his expression composed, though the uncertainty inside him hadn’t entirely disappeared.

"That’s good," he replied.

Ambrosia lowered the towel and looked at him, waiting. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

A car passed outside, its headlights briefly sliding across the curtains before disappearing into the night.

"Ambrosia..." he began softly.

She tilted her head, her expression open and attentive, giving him time to continue.