Chapter 5

Chapter 5

In the previous timeline, Rose had planned to ignore the urgent telegram she received that day anyway since it was a holiday and just stay holed up in her boarding room after her fight with Arthur.

But Catherine’s unexpected death shattered Rose, and she ended up going straight to Arthur’s house instead, throwing herself into his arms and crying without warning.

He comforted her, soothing the convulsive sobs as if they’d never argued, and that winter, Arthur formally proposed to her. Their wedding was set for late October the following year, during the Samhain Festival.

It all felt faintly distant, yet it hadn’t even happened here, it was still long into the future; the feeling of deja vu was so strange.

Still, the idea of seeing Arthur’s face made Rose feel like every problem would be solved, so she quickened her pace toward the office.

“Ah, ah…! Ah!”

The first floor of the Byron Building was a general store, the second floor its storage.

But ominously, as she approached the third floor, where her workplace was, the embarrassing sounds grew louder.

Rose stared blankly at the door ahead.

[Huckerd & Blavatsky Paranormal Research Institute]

A brass sign hung in front of the office, crafted at great expense to look legitimate—just as shady as its business smelled.

From beyond the expensive sign, loud noises leaked out, almost as if amplified through a megaphone.

No matter how much of an optimist she was, Rose couldn’t just brush it off and think: “Someone must be renting our office to have a steamy time.”

The moment she accepted the reality, Rose felt her blood rush in reverse.

She reached out and turned the doorknob, and the door swung wide open. To think they hadn’t even locked it while brazenly doing this in broad daylight—it must have been an urgent need.

Well, even if it had been locked, she would have broken in anyway, so it didn’t matter.

The two were so engrossed with what they were doing that they didn’t even notice the door had opened; they were tangled together on the guest sofa inside.

The long backrest of the sofa hid them from view, but Rose’s heart dropped at the sight of two legs dangling out from over the armrest.

Ah.

Was this the bastard who caused me so much pain?

I spent a hellish week worrying about this scumbag and praying for his life??

“Ah, Arthur! I love you so much…”

The desperate voice that had been heard from outside moaned out.

What a filthy trickster.

Not a single tear fell from Rose’s eyes.

It was clear these two must have checked their brains at the door.

“Haa, I feel like I could die from how good this feels…”

“Then die.” Finally unable to hold back, Rose coldly answered the woman’s coquettish voice.

Only then did chilling silence fall, as if they were now realizing a third party had appeared.

“How did you get here…?”

Arthur Granfield’s stupid face appeared over the backrest, his lips stained red with lipstick.

“Arthur Granfield.”

“Ro-Rose…! Wait, I’ll explain everything!”

“It’s fine. You’ve prepared the audiovisual materials so well that it’s easy to understand at a glance.”

“Rose, the truth is…”

Rose understood with her whole body what it meant to become deadly calm when extremely angry.

Otherwise, there would be no way to explain why her raging fury had cooled so completely.

Ever since they reunited at eighteen, after having once been childhood friends, Arthur Granfield had truly ‘watched over’ Rose.

They did everything lovers do but never went all the way.

She had thought that contradiction—blushing while dreaming of their first night—was purity, and respected him for his great patience and restraint.

But after fighting with her lover, he called another woman to sleep with her in broad daylight?

We have shared time together; how could you do this to me?

“You’re garbage.”

The sneer slipped out naturally.

“No, garbage isn’t the right term.”

Rose took a breath and continued.

“Garbage is probably more noble than you.”

“…What?”

The woman quietly getting dressed had red curly hair.

Rose could have turned her head slightly to see her face clearly, but her pride wouldn’t allow it.

“Rose… I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. You had better be sorry. Without that shame, you’re not even human.”

“Rose, you know… Mythos… a Mythos with a broken Umwelt has to regularly… vent its excess magic…”

“Yeah, I know your magic is overproduced and you have to release it regularly. But still.”

Rose looked at Arthur with a cold gaze as he desperately tried to explain with his head bowed.

“You told me you could handle it alone, didn’t you? I never dreamed that meant calling a prostitute.”

“Rose. Griselda isn’t a prostitute…”

“Ha!”

Why do you defend her against, because you’ve been with her before? Maybe even more than once!

“Whether it’s Griselda or Grizzly, I want you both gone from this office before I skin you and make a floor mat. Arthur, you especially.”

Rose snapped coldly at the two, who could only remain silent in the face of her fury.

Then she turned to leave through the wide-open door but paused.

“Ah, right. Arthur Granfield.”

He looked up, perhaps hoping for a chance to explain.

But Rose wasn’t calling his name for that reason.

“Huckerd & Blavatsky Paranormal Research Institute is now closed.”

“…What?”

Arthur was stunned by the sudden closure announcement.

“I told you yesterday. Our business directions don’t align, so we can’t work together.”

“Rose. You can’t even keep proper books on your own.”

“Do I look naive enough to trust a man who betrays his girlfriend like this?”

“We have bookings until next month!”

“I’m fine on my own, and I only have to attend important events.”

Rose turned away as if she never wanted to see him again.

“After seeing this mess, we can never go back, Arthur Granfield.”

She spoke, enunciating each syllable of his name.

“…”

“You know it too. We can’t continue as business partners anymore.”

This wasn’t just an office.

It was a space holding every moment they shared—an office they had planned and nurtured together since its start.

This wasn’t just a sofa, either.

The perfect sofa they’d chosen together at a secondhand furniture store, both pointing at it and saying, “That one!”

But to seem on it like that, with another woman?

As time passed, anger and bitterness boiled over.

Walking on the main street now, Rose suppressed her urge to scream and cause a scene with superhuman patience.

She was a civilized person after all.

Well, she had witnessed a few gentlemen and ladies shed their civility at the office and behave like barbarians, in her time.

Honestly, not crying on the spot was a great act of patience—hardly a common virtue these days.

Yeah, definitely.

“Virtue…”

Ha! Ridiculous.

What good is virtue in the face of a lover’s betrayal?

Just returning to the past was overwhelming enough.

The fear that this might be an illusion. The anxiety that she might fail to prevent Catherine’s death despite knowing how it happened. The suspicion that she might have gone mad still wouldn’t leave her.

But Arthur had been there, so she thought surely everything would be fine.

He had always supported her, given her certainty.

Yet what Rose faced was brutal betrayal.

To see them so openly entwined was enough to make her head spin; she wished she could just let it be.

Caroline was right; maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to get drunk, cry all night, cling to them both, and curse Arthur—or rather, that bastard.

Or maybe to cast a gloomy curse on that betrayer and that Grizzly or Grilled or whatever her name was.

But as long as the antique ruby ring existed, she couldn’t turn away from the fact she had gone back in time.

“Damn it… I traveled so far, and yet I can’t even find a moment to explode?”

Finally, the tears she’d held back burst out.

Her vision blurred so much as she cried that she couldn’t even tell where she was walking.

Her face was probably a mess of tears and snot, red with anger, eyes bloodshot and swollen…

She cried so much she barely had the strength to walk after a little while, staggering as she headed toward the public school.

Somehow, she had walked all the way to the three-way intersection in front of the always crowded Fellows Department Store branch. Tomorrow’s newspaper would have a headline-worthy incident about her.

As she kept walking forward—

Smack!

Suddenly, a strong hand wrapped around her waist, along with a scent that pierced her chest.

“…Miss! Are you okay?”