I’m Just a Counselor Chapter 119

I walked around the market for a long time but couldn’t find anything I liked.

 

“It’s because the Northern Lights roses have spoiled my taste.”

 

As time passed, I grew more nervous—what if I couldn’t give Estella a birthday present? But then I realized:

 

‘Actually, she’d probably be happy with anything I gave her.’

 

It was the pressure of choosing that bothered me.

 

I sighed heavily when Jeremiah spoke up.

 

“Finally, why don’t we go over there?”

 

He pointed to an accessories store. It looked expensive, but after hesitating, I decided to trust his judgment and followed him inside.

 

A luxurious scent greeted me as soon as I stepped in.

 

“Welcome.”

 

The bespectacled shopkeeper’s crisp greeting faltered when he recognized Jeremiah. But he quickly recovered, his merchant instincts kicking in.

 

“Is there anything you’re looking for?”

 

“Do you mind if I look around first?”

 

“Of course! Please, take your time!”

 

The shopkeeper’s tone shifted dramatically, as if suddenly realizing I was the one making the decision.

 

I wiped my sweaty palms and scanned the shelves, feeling obligated to buy something now.

 

“They’re all high quality. Pick any one—you won’t regret it.”

 

Jeremiah’s whisper reassured me. If he vouched for them, I could relax.

 

My eyes soon landed on a fountain pen. Its sleek silver body gleamed, but what caught my attention was the aquamarine gemstone on its tip—March’s birthstone, Estella’s birth month.

 

“Ah, you’ve got a fine eye! That pen is—”

 

The shopkeeper launched into a sales pitch, but I tuned him out, picking up the pen instead. 

 

The weight felt perfect, balanced.

 

“You like that?” Jeremiah studied me. I nodded.

 

“Estella’s hands are smaller than mine, but the grip should still work… Practical, pretty—yes, this one.”

 

I handed the pen to the shopkeeper.

 

“We offer free engraving. Any preferred phrase?”

 

“Yes, please.”

 

He passed me a notepad, and after a moment’s thought, I scribbled down the words. Once finished, the shopkeeper asked where to deliver it.

 

Jeremiah answered before I could.

 

“To Oppenheim Castle.”

 

“Ah, of course! And the recipient’s name…?”

 

“Vanessa Asell.”

 

“Shall I wrap it for delivery?”

 

I agreed, selecting a navy velvet box and a ribbon color. Then came the price—higher than expected. The shopkeeper’s smirk said it all: Sold to a duke.

 

Tears pricked my eyes as I reached for my purse, but Jeremiah cut in.

 

“Charge it to Jeremiah Oppenheim. Payment upon delivery.”

 

“Duke—no, Jeremiah!”

 

I whirled to him, horrified. He blinked, genuinely confused.

 

“If you pay, it’s your gift! Mine has to be with my money!”

 

“You’re so stubborn.”

 

He grumbled, but I ignored him, thrusting my gold coin at the shopkeeper. The poor man glanced between us before accepting it. Jeremiah didn’t stop him.

 

“Delivery by noon tomorrow, then.”

 

Relief washed over me as we left. I’d found something even better than I’d hoped.

 

‘Thank goodness I trusted Jeremiah’s eye.’

 

Then I noticed his empty hands.

 

“Duke didn’t buy anything. And you still haven’t given Estella a gift?”

 

“You were calling me ‘Jeremiah’ so nicely earlier. Why back to ‘Duke’?”

 

“Because it’s… harder to say casually!”

 

“Hmph. You managed fine in the mountains. Now you’re freezing up again?”

 

He ruffled my hair, laughing. I coughed, suddenly flustered.

 

Finally, he answered properly.

 

“I am preparing something.”

 

“Then why come with me today?”

 

“I just wanted time with you.”

 

My face burned. I scrubbed at my cheeks, but the blush wouldn’t fade.

 

“We should head back.”

 

Jeremiah’s smirk deepened as he watched me squirm. Then, instead of offering his hand, he simply took mine, lacing our fingers together.

 

“Did you have fun today?”

 

“…I don’t know.”

 

“I did.”

 

His soft tone made me cave.

 

“…Me too.”

 

Unlike the snow-laden mountains, the market buzzed with early spring energy. Survivors of winter celebrated its end—a joy only they could understand.

 

“Camellias.”

 

Jeremiah’s murmur drew my gaze to the red blooms—the same ones in the castle gardens.

 

“Do you know why I planted them?”

 

“Shane said it was your choice.”

 

“Right. I refused to lose. Even if it meant dying.”

 

“…”

 

“They were a reminder: no matter what came at me, I was the only one who could take my place. That my struggles were temporary.”

 

I studied his profile, then the camellias again.

 

A flower that thrived through winter.

 

‘He planted them to tell himself: ‘This winter will end. I’ll outlast it.’’

 

And he had. Just like the camellias, he’d grown stronger for it.

 

“You proved it, Jeremiah.”

 

The blooms were even more breathtaking after enduring the cold—just like him.

 

“I won. In the end, it was nothing.”

 

He turned to me, eyes crinkling.

 

“Aren’t they beautiful in spring?”