Lie Again! Chapter 64

<Chapter 64. The Scent of Rose(3)> 

 

Black.

 

One day, it slipped into Evan’s canvas. On paper soaked through with heavy, water-laden brushstrokes, it was a small blot of black, like a stain that had splashed by mistake.

 

No bigger than a fingernail and lodged in a corner, it overwhelmed every other color and stood out far too much. A canvas filled with vivid, brilliant hues, yet at the same time blurred and shapeless—over it, a blot that popped out abruptly.

 

It bothered him so much that he tried to get rid of it, but the vividly stained black mark could not be covered by other colors, nor could it be erased. In the end, he chose to ignore it.

 

It was so small—if he pretended not to see it, that would be that.

 

But while Evan forced his gaze elsewhere, the black shade drifted slowly across the canvas, steadily swallowing up the other colors.

 

More vividly, more broadly.

 

Until it could no longer be dismissed as a mere stain.

 

By the time he noticed, the canvas had already been completely dyed black. The brilliant colors he had painted until then were buried beneath the inky darkness and vanished without a trace.

 

What remained on the paper was a single black that had devoured all other colors and asserted its existence.

 

It was strange.

 

Sometime along the way, without his realizing when, the black that had once bothered him became something he rather liked.

 

A black that seemed to carry a subtle sheen, or like staring into a winter lake whose depth could not be measured. That color captured his gaze and refused to let go.

 

Yes. Just like now.

 

“……”

 

Evan stood rooted to the spot, meeting the girl’s dark eyes head-on.

 

It was a face he hadn’t seen in a long time. A face he had missed deeply during their time apart, and at the same time, a face he had hoped not to encounter.

 

Her pale face, tinged with faint fatigue, was set in a cold stiffness. She had always been like that—she never revealed the thoughts hidden behind her eyes easily.

 

A calm, quiet winter lake of a girl. Winter is arriving in Florida, a place full of summer sun.

 

That was why he liked her. The way her white cheeks would flush red when he pressed kisses here and there; the way she would crease her long eyes as she burst into laughter; the way she would push out her reddened lips when teased.

 

Evan couldn’t resist playing mischievous pranks on Jin in particular, because he loved the ripples revealed each time the solid ice over the lake shattered with a crisp crack. He knew that even when Jin glared at him with her eyes, she could never quite hide the smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

 

‘I wanted to see that.’

 

What filled Evan’s vision now was only a rigidly stiffened face. At the same time, he could tell that beyond that hardened expression, negative emotions—confusion, betrayal, distrust, anger—were swirling restlessly.

 

And that the distance between him and Jin, which he had painstakingly closed step by careful step, had been pushed far away in an instant.

 

His tongue tasted bitter.

 

A nameless anxiety welled up inside him, and Evan clenched and unclenched his fist. A sudden urge surged to run over and close this distance. He wanted to make excuses to Jin.

 

That he had been sick, that he had been stuck in some ridiculous rural place where even calls wouldn’t go through, that he had been so busy he couldn’t even hold his phone.

 

Evan knew that Jin would be fooled at least once by such clumsy, rambling lies—that even if she turned away coldly, she would look back at least once.

 

Because Jin was that kind of girl. Even while putting on a hard expression, she could never truly be cruel to someone.

 

How irritating it had been, that respect and consideration she extended so evenly—to some nameless idiot at the arena, to Evan Ruth, to the nerd who chattered like a sparrow, to countless other trivial people.

 

Now it was his turn. If he burrowed into the girl’s soft heart, it was still possible to turn things back.

 

Someone whispered. If he ran to Jin’s side, flashed the dimple she couldn’t take her eyes off, and smiled so that light would shine properly into the green eyes she liked—if he did that, then still—

 

But his feet remained firmly glued to the floor, refusing to move.

 

‘Emotions eventually come to an end, Evan.’

 

The man slowly cast his fishing line. Then he stared at the river for a long time. Looking at his back, Evan felt confused. The man’s back, which had always seemed so large, had at some point become similar to his own.

 

Twenty. The age when he met Jacqueline and started a family.

 

An age only three years older than Evan was now. The foolish love of a twenty-year-old had set the man’s life on an unexpected path.

 

Their love soon bore a small fruit in the form of a child. When Evan’s maternal grandfather, Warren, learned of it, he flew into a rage and forced twenty-year-old Henry to marry and become a lawyer at the same time. He said he could not give his daughter to a vulgar athlete.

 

Though he absolutely could not acknowledge his profession, Henry accepted the contradictory demand that if he did not take responsibility, Warren would shoot him in the head. For Jacqueline, pregnant with his child, Henry took off his headgear and stepped down from his position as quarterback.

 

It was the end of the promising football player Henry Butterfield.

 

‘If it’s an emotion you can’t control, an emotion that doesn’t make you rational, then before that—while you still can—you have to throw it away yourself.’

 

The man who had abandoned his dream for love now regretted the past when he had been consumed by burning emotions.

 

Evan didn’t know what his father’s face looked like when he said those words. He only guessed that the fog-like emptiness clinging to his voice must have filled that face as well.

 

Evan Butterfield likes Lee Jin.

 

He realized it very late. Now, he understands the reasons behind his inexplicable actions.

 

Why he went out of his way to approach and meddle with a lost transfer student; why he listened for the neat, light footsteps following behind him.

 

Why, scoffing at the idea of punishment cleaning, he still faithfully headed for the chemistry lab; why spite swelled up when the girl ignored him as if he weren’t there.

 

Why he secretly lifted the corners of his mouth at the sight of the girl leaning forward, posture collapsing, when she concentrated intensely—as if she might fall right into the book.

 

Why, even after firmly resolving to ignore it, his gaze kept returning to the girl, drawn by the faint musk scent that drifted from her hair when she moved suddenly.

 

Why, one day, he headed to the homestay using a little kid as an excuse; why irritation surged at the thought of Evan Ruth, leading him to cut off contact; why, despite that, he hired a small spy because he still wanted to know how she was doing.

 

Now Evan knows the reason for all of it.

 

Evan Butterfield likes Lee Jin. Perhaps from the very beginning.

 

And when affection finally announced its existence, another emotion arrived alongside it. An emotion called fear.

 

The signpost that had shown him the way began to spin around, and hesitation crept into the confident steps he had taken. The world that had firmly supported him wavered in confusion.

 

What I feel for the girl isn’t a normal emotion.

 

Wanting to drop everything and run to her side to soothe her pale, rigid face; being afraid she might hate me, and at the same time feeling a savage anger toward the boys who even now glance at Jin—there’s no way that’s normal.

 

Getting involved in things I wouldn’t normally spare a glance for because of her, thinking about her all day—there’s no way that’s a command issued by reason.

 

This wasn’t what he wanted. A relationship where he wasn’t swayed by the other person; a relationship he could attach to lightly and just as easily let go of when needed; a relationship that didn’t threaten him.

 

That was the final form of emotion he desired.

 

Not this.

 

Evan remembers what Jacqueline was like after Henry left.

 

After the divorce was finalized, she collapsed conspicuously. The one or two drinks she had at night quickly increased until it was faster to count bottles, becoming a poison that could never be separated from her.

 

On nights when she drank herself senseless, Jacqueline would hold young Evan and stroke his hair.

 

‘Will you smile for Mom?’

 

The headache-inducing scent of roses and the harsh smell of alcohol wrapped around him, stinging his nose. Instead of running away from her, Evan obediently offered his head and smiled.

 

In her beautiful green eyes, tears streamed down as negative emotions—despair, anger, self-loathing—swirled violently.

 

If I even reject her, she’ll surely wither away.

 

Young Evan was clever. His mother wouldn’t endure. She was too young and fragile, like a rose grown in a greenhouse.

 

So Evan smiled. With the beautiful face that resembled Jacqueline’s, as much as she wanted.

 

But Evan’s smile couldn’t comfort her. The hand that fumbled over his face as if searching for someone soon fell in disappointment. It was because she found herself in her son’s face. The man who laughed heartily and cheerfully wasn’t there.

 

‘Ah… you look too much like me….’

 

Unspoken emotions swelled up in her beautiful face, mingling with dark despair. Emotions she herself didn’t even realize.

 

‘My poor, poor son….’

 

But Evan knew the name of what shimmered in those green eyes.

 

Poor, poor me….

 

It was the self-pity of someone who had never thought of anyone but herself her entire life. As Evan received his mother’s falling tears, the words she hid echoed in his ears.