I Accidentally Saved The Male Lead’s Brother Chapter 165

Carcel was still standing beside the apartment entrance. Though the wind had picked up considerably, he remained motionless.

“Charlotte.”

His eyes lit up with relief as he spotted Eunha approaching.

Without hesitation, Eunha draped the coat she had brought over his shoulders. It barely fit due to his larger frame, but she managed to settle it in place.

“The weather’s cold. Why are you still here?”

“…”

“Why didn’t you leave?”

“I couldn’t leave you behind.”

“Don’t tell me… did you come all this way to find me?”

Carcel seemed to notice from her question that her memories had returned. He stepped closer to her, his voice trembling with urgency.

“Do you remember?”

“…”

“Charlotte.”

At his plea, Eunha couldn’t hold back her tears any longer.

“Yes, I remember everything.”

“Then why…”

“My mom said she couldn’t live without me. She said if anything happened to me, she wouldn’t survive. How can I leave her behind after that?”

Eunha knew it was a dream. She understood that this world, where she had never said goodbye to her mother, was merely a projection of her regrets.

But her mother’s bulgogi tasted so real, her embrace felt so warm, and every moment seemed vivid and tangible. Her mother’s words—I can’t live without you—rang too true to be ignored.

She felt certain that if she left this dream, the mother who remained here would grieve deeply.

Carcel gently pulled her into his arms, his hand stroking her back soothingly. Eunha clung to his shirt, sobbing into it.

His white shirt quickly became damp with her tears, but he didn’t mind. He continued to hold her close, murmuring softly,

“Can’t I be enough for you?”

“What?”

“Can’t I be your everything?”

Eunha looked up at him, tears clinging to her lashes. His expression was pained, as if reliving the moment he had recovered Edgar’s memories.

“I’ll do better. I’ll try harder to make you smile every day. If you’re ever sad, I’ll share your pain.”

Carcel knelt on one knee, still holding her hand, and looked up at her earnestly.

“If I’m not enough, think of the others who need you. Theo is waiting for you, crying. Lannia and Jake send letters every day. Irina is praying for you to wake up.”

“…”

“Please, I beg you…”

Tears finally fell from his eyes, though he seemed unaware of them. He simply gazed at her with unyielding desperation.

Placing her hand against his cheek, Carcel let his tears roll down onto her hand.

“I can’t go on without you anymore.”

His voice was filled with anguish and desperation. Eunha shut her eyes tightly, her heart heavy with the weight of his words.

Her mother, waiting in the living room, was a dream—a mirage born of her lingering regrets. But Carcel was real, as were Theo, her brothers, and everyone else in their world.

This was no longer her world. Her home was where Carcel and Theo waited.

There had never truly been a choice to make.

It was time to leave.

Eunha pulled Carcel to his feet and spoke, her voice trembling.

“Let’s go. Back home.”

For a moment, Carcel seemed uncertain about what she meant by home. Understanding her intent, she clarified,

“We need to console Theo. He must be crying his heart out since neither of us is there.”

“But before that,” Carcel said urgently, his voice firm, “there’s something you need to do first.”

****

“Eunha, who is this man? And why does your face look like that? Have you been crying?”

Eunha’s mother looked utterly startled as her daughter entered the house with a foreign man in tow.

Still teary-eyed, Eunha opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t manage any words.

“Charlotte.”

Carcel squeezed her hand, his steady grip grounding her.

The warmth of his touch helped her regain a semblance of composure.

“You said you had something you needed to say,” he reminded her gently.

At first confused, Eunha suddenly remembered the words she had spoken to him at Theo’s birthday party while tipsy—the words she had left unsaid for so long.

“Do it now,” Carcel encouraged, “so you won’t regret it later.”

Pushed forward by his gentle support, Eunha wiped her tears and faced her mother.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you, Mom.”

“Eunha…”

“I didn’t mean it. I’ve never truly hated you. Not once.”

Carcel, standing nearby, placed a reassuring hand on her back.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Eunha continued, tears spilling again. “I always told myself it was fine, that I didn’t even remember anymore, but I lied. I’ve always thought about you. I wanted to eat your food again, sleep next to you, and… and…”

“…”

“I’m sorry for being a bad daughter. I’m sorry for leaving you first.”

“Eunha…”

“But please, don’t be too sad. Forget about me and live happily. I’ll do the same.”

Eunha, no, Charlotte, couldn’t hold back the grief that surged like a tidal wave. She collapsed into Carcel’s arms.

As he held her tightly, Carcel turned to her mother and promised softly,

“I’ll make sure she’s happy.”

At that moment, the world around them began to crumble.

Goodbye, Mom. I was happy, even if only for a little while.

In Carcel’s embrace, Charlotte whispered words her mother would never hear.

***

It felt as though someone was dragging her out from the depths of a vast, dark ocean.

Charlotte opened her eyes.

The ceiling above her was familiar yet foreign—it was her room in the Heinst estate.

“I’m back,” she realized.

Unable to suppress the flood of sorrow, she shut her eyes and pressed her hand against them.

Though she didn’t want to cry, tears leaked out anyway. Lying on the bed, her body shook with quiet sobs.

A presence stirred beside her, and a warm hand gently caressed her cheek.

“Charlotte.”

Opening her eyes slowly, she saw Carcel sitting beside her. He looked thinner than he had in the dream.

Without hesitation, she flung her arms around his neck and began crying uncontrollably.

Carcel cradled her, his hand stroking her hair and back until her sobs subsided.

When she finally calmed down, Charlotte looked up at him, taking in his tear-streaked face.

He had been crying, too. Seeing his gaunt cheeks and tears stirred a mix of pity and love within her.

For some reason, she found herself thinking, If it’s Carcel, I wouldn’t mind making him cry from time to time.

Trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere, she teased in a playful tone,

“Did you know? For someone who doesn’t seem like it, you’re quite the crybaby.”

“You said I could cry in front of you.”

Wiping the tear hanging precariously from his chin, she smiled.

“You can. Always.”

When she reached up to wipe the tear tracks from his cheeks, Carcel caught her hand and pressed it against his face.

For a moment, she thought she saw Theo’s face in his expression—full of relief and exhaustion.

“But only in front of me,” she added with mock seriousness. “You’re too handsome when you cry. Other women might fall for you, and we can’t have that.”

“I would never cry in front of anyone else.”

“You’d better not. If you do, you’ll have me to deal with.”

Charlotte closed her eyes, smiling faintly as Carcel’s hand cupped her cheek.

“Thank you.”

“…”

“For coming to get me.”

***

“It’s fascinating,” Teresa said in a tone of genuine admiration as she took Charlotte’s pulse.

Adjusting Charlotte’s sleeve, Carcel asked anxiously,

“What’s fascinating?”

“I once told you that Lady Charlotte’s lifeline was unstable, didn’t I?”

Carcel seemed momentarily puzzled, but Charlotte nodded calmly.

“Yes, you said the two threads were barely holding together. That using my powers had weakened them, and if I kept using them, I could die.”

“You knew, and you still did it?” Carcel scolded, his tone stern. Charlotte, feeling guilty, couldn’t argue back.

Thankfully, Teresa continued her explanation, redirecting Carcel’s attention.

“I assumed Lady Charlotte would still be in danger even after waking up. But strangely, the threads are now perfectly intertwined.”

“What does that mean?” Carcel asked urgently.

“It means they’re no longer unstable. Though they remain distinct in color, they’re so tightly bound now that it’s as if they were always one. Lady Charlotte could use her powers freely without any issues.”

“Then she’s safe now?”

“Yes,” Teresa replied with a reassuring nod. “She’ll need some time to recover after being unconscious for a week, but that’s something her physician can oversee. My assistance is no longer necessary.”

“That’s a relief,” Carcel murmured.

“But I can’t explain why the threads suddenly became so stable.”

“I think I know why,” Charlotte said softly.

Both Teresa and Carcel turned to her, curious.

Charlotte smiled warmly at them.

“Because I have no more regrets.”