About Your Pride and My Prejudice

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The next day after dreaming of being chased by a stalker, I was dazed all day.  Meanwhile, Mr. Maurice came to visit.  I sat down at the reading table, and he sat at the tea table next to me, reading a book.

My mind was so noisy that I couldn’t write, but I didn’t have the confidence to say that I wanted to rest today.

That’s why I wasn’t confident to listen to his peculiarly strange tone of saying ‘I’ll be your Troy’ again— and the kiss scene after showing him the manuscript for an interim check—and above all, Mr. Maurice looked exceptionally tired.

Originally, he always looks tired, but these days, he gives off a blurry atmosphere as if he would disappear at any moment. I didn’t want to have an old-fashioned quarrel with him. So, I put my diary under the manuscript paper and pretended to write meaningless letters or scribbles.

When he got up after a couple of hours, I told him I wanted him to come only once a week, not three times a week for the time being.

Mr. Maurice did not object. He’s not really teaching me, so my suggestion to reduce the number of visits probably didn’t sound like a complaint about his skills.

Furthermore, Maurice had said that there is no need to worry about a reduction in salary depending on the number of days of class because the remuneration is paid in a special way.

However, it was Alan Leopold, not me, who signed the contract with him, and that he could not follow my suggestion because it was a condition set by Alan that he had three classes a week.

So I said,

“I think you really need a break. If you’re not healthy, it’ll be hard for you to have a good influence on me.”

“That’s true, but…….”

“You can still read my novel once a week. I will work hard without being lazy.”

 I added hastily for him, who was still hesitant.

“I’ll tell Alan.”

I didn’t forget to smile as if I was relieved.

“Don’t worry, he’s good at doing favors.”

So I was relieved to finally reduce my contact with Mr. Maurice, whom I had been uncomfortable with—although not a bad person—all along. 

Now that Sandra is here, there is no need to quench my thirst by having awkward conversations with him, and once a week is enough to check whether the progress of the novel is going as he had planned.

This gave me a good reason to meet Alan Leopold. I have a clear duty to tell him about the alteration of his contract. So it makes sense for me to wait for Alan Leopold.

Even if I say that ……, in fact, after Mr. Maurice went back that day, I did not continue writing the novel or my diary, but focused on my thoughts, and I came to the conclusion that I had to wait for Alan anyway.

It is my excuse to use Mr. Maurice as a defense mechanism to defend my pining for Alan..

So the reason I have to face Alan Leopold again is because I have to fight with him. There are still a lot of things that need to be answered by him, and there are still a lot of things that need to be explained with his own voice.

I have faced Alan several times since I came to this mansion. That’s pretty close too……. In other words, I have experienced things that are unusual for me, such as making eye contact, eating and drinking together, receiving flowers, and sharing deep kisses.

We are even addressing each other by name, and we use quite intimate language.

But I still don’t know how Alan Leopold feels. He looks clear and transparent at first glance, but when I approach him, I can’t see anything.

He and I are no longer what we used to be—Melissa, who stared at him from a distance, and Alan, who never looked back—So I need to know his psychology.

Now I think I need to figure out exactly how he stalked me and how he brought me here.

I can’t immediately hate Alan Leopold no matter how much I reflect on his past deeds. So I feel I have only myself to blame because I have loved him for countless hours, but I don’t know what his intentions were for his actions.

The same is true of my novel. Just as it is impossible to sympathize with or empathize with a text that is not well explained, the story between him and me is completely lost in the middle.

This is the identity of the sense of incompatibility that I have felt. His circumstances, his motives, his sincerity, his explanation…… I didn’t hear any of this properly.

All he’s ever told me was a roundabout, abstract answer. It’s an excuse that doesn’t work for me, even if it’s an excellent businessman’s way of speaking. Using the same language in conversation is fundamental, and I’m not a businessman.

Alan Leopold, who had been just an illusion to me for so many years, materializes and talks to me, smiles, breathes and smells, touches me every moment that always blurs my consciousness.

How much I looked forward to studying abroad, how much I wanted to send a letter to my family and friends I left behind in the kingdom, and how I was determined to break free from this deformed life……. After making eye contact with Alan, all of this hot enthusiasm becomes dull like a night fog that scatters in the morning sun.

The moment I monopolize Alan Leopold. The euphoria of that magical time is more exhilarating than anything I’ve ever experienced. 

I don’t have anything to say if I’ve lived a small life, but it’s true that the actions he takes, the expressions he makes, and the words he says are so stimulating that I can’t turn a blind eye to them.

But I must never forget. No matter how sweet he is, as sweet as candy, licking it with a wounded tongue is only painful.

So in order to face Alan Leopold straight, to resent him indifferently, to clarify my feelings for him and to be completely free from the remnants of the fear that weighed on me, I decided to wait for him and confront him.

Of course, I must not forget to tell the story of Mr. Maurice.

I felt lighthearted after a long time. Have I ever felt this relieved since the day I first learned that I was being stalked by an unidentified man? Even after his identity was finally revealed, I never felt comfortable living in this picturesque mansion.

Some may laugh at me for being so proud of a decision that I haven’t even tried yet, but this resolution really means a lot to me. To the point where I think the worries and tears of the past few months were a hardship to reach this conclusion.

So I was so happy that I wanted to hug myself. I feel like I have crossed a wall I thought I would never be able to cross. Like the saying that the beginning is half the battle, I had a hunch that there will be countless walls left in the future, but everything will be fine.

You can do it, Melissa. So I just need to see Alan again!

* * *

……It’s been a few days since I thought that way. There’s a problem. Alan Leopold hasn’t yet come back.

Is it because I made a big decision? The days without him were as long as months.

In fact, it wouldn’t have been a big problem if it had stopped here. If it’s waiting silently, I’m pretty confident in doing that. But, 

“Are you here?”

“Ha… Why are you here again?”

It is a huge problem that an unexpected uninvited guest has already visited me for the third time.

“Sit down, it’s getting cold.”

Monica Elwood was a very brazen woman. It was four days ago that she came back to me. I believed that she would never meet me after the day she tore my clothes and scratched my skin.

She didn’t seem to be here to apologize or say anything in particular. She just walked into the dining hall of the detached house at lunchtime and sat at the opposite side of the big table where I always sat alone and ate. It was the same the day before, yesterday and even today..

She greeted me and then dined again. With an attitude of insignificance, as if she were dealing with a lady whom she had met several times in the social world.  It was really shameless.

When I met her in the dining hall, my feelings were half absurd and half fearful all three times. I wanted to avoid my seat immediately, but I couldn’t read her intention to attack me like last time, and above all, I had a useless determination.

Why do I have to get out of the way? This is my space, this is my meal. Isn’t she the one who needs to get out of the way?

Today, Sandra ran away in surprise—it’s getting more and more entrenched that she must have been harassed by Monica Elwood at some point—Monica was surprisingly nonchalant. She was even eating in a ridiculously beautiful appearance.

Today she was wearing a dress as white and beautiful as snow, which looked almost like an angel or a fairy. I almost believed that the evil deed of the other day was in my imagination…….

“You don’t plan to come every day, are you?  Are you free?”

“All I have is money and time.”

“……Ha.”

I shook my head quietly and started eating. The main dish was veal with potato puree.

“You know, Collins.”

“…….”

The way she talked informally was the same. Temptress, should I be thankful that she isn’t saying anything like that anymore?

No matter how beautiful she is, I didn’t want to mingle with a rude person. So I maintained the distance. I don’t even want to get close to this woman.

“I hate mushrooms. Will you eat it for me?”

“Ha….”

What is she talking about? I shot back while cutting the meat.

“What are you doing? Is it a new type of bullying?”

I was able to reply to her in a pretty loud voice. Of course, I still freeze when our eyes meet.

“What do you mean by bullying? How can I do that when I’m so scared of baby?”

Monica folded her eyes and smiled. I swear I’ve never seen such an evil smile in my life.

“I’m trying to get close to you. I don’t have any friends. He doesn’t seem to be here either. I’m not here to see Alan, so don’t worry.”

“…….I have a friend and Alan isn’t usually here at this time.”

Isn’t it normal to apologize for what happened before that? And why am I answering each and every one of her questions?

“That’s great! It’s perfect for girls to build friendships.”

“I don’t want to build a friendship. I’m going to eat now, so don’t interrupt…”

“It’s a secret between us, so don’t tell Alan I’m here.”

“No, I’m not building a friendship!”

Monica, who ignored my words, was so annoying that my face heated up. What can I do? What a brazen woman.

Then Monica, who picked up a plump cherry and put it in her mouth, whispered in an elegant and captivating voice, while curving her eyes. 

“If I say, I’ll kill your maid?”

I dropped the dishware.