Saving the Villain

Conrad's only answer to Cosette's remarks last night was a smile. He then proceeded to make his daughter some snacks, which they shared until late at night. They chatted about a lot of things, mainly Cosette carrying the conversation, since Conrad could only mostly talk about business.

After that, Conrad escorted Cosette to her room. He opened the door for her, and somehow, his eyes caught the desk.

"Thank you, Papa." Cosette faced him the second she entered her room, holding the door open. "The food is really great. You should make me more next time."

Conrad blinked, setting his attention back to her. His lips stretched into a subtle smile, nodding.

"Of course," he said. "I can set up a date —"

Cosette shook her head. "I'm always available. How can I let my father set a schedule to cook for me when I was the one who asked him to stay at home?"

"Then… should I make you a lunchbox?"

"What?"

"You always made my lunch boxes. I won't be in the office until next week," he explained, insinuating he had free time to make her a lunch box. "Is that alright with you?"

"Uh… of course!" she smiled excitedly. "I will look forward to it."

"Very well." Conrad jerked his chin towards the room. "Good night, Cosette."

"Good night, Papa."

Conrad stood outside the door, watching her close the door ever so slowly. But just before she could fully close it, Cosette halted when he spoke.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked, making her raise her head at him.

"No?"

"Are you sure?"

"Of course." Cosette sported a reassuring smile. "I will tell you if I wasn't."

"Okay." Conrad nodded in understanding, and Cosette bid him "goodnight" once again, before closing the door. He stayed still in his spot, staring at the shot door.

Conrad had been in Cosette's room a few times in the sixteen years of her life. Yes, just a few times. Despite that, Cosette's room had been the same since she was around ten. Everything in her room was in the same spot; Lucia was maintaining it since the last time someone else cleaned Cosette's room warranted an outburst from the young miss.

They had to sanitize her room at that time because she refused to go inside. The reason Conrad noticed the shuffled things on Cosette's desk. He also noticed the slight reluctance in her eyes when he offered her to make the lunch boxes.

Yet, she agreed.

"I didn't know she was struggling," he mumbled, assuming that Cosette was battling her own obsessive-compulsive disorder. "She refused to get it under control before. Would she find it repulsive if I offer she seeks a specialist?"

A deep sigh slipped past his lips, unable to decide for his daughter. Even though their relationship had been great, Conrad still had to tread on eggshells around her. His daughter might've improved, but he still wanted to respect her space.

'She'll tell me if she needs one,' he told himself. 'Even if she doesn't and I see her struggling, I will suggest the idea.'

With that being said, Conrad turned on his heel, heading back into his room. On his way, he couldn't help but remember Cosette's remarks in the kitchen.

"I hate her for leaving me and for hurting you."

His steps slowed down, stopping in front of the master's bedroom, which was Conrad's. He couldn't help but recall the look in Cosette's eyes while saying those words; there was no hatred or longing, just nonchalance with a tinge of bitterness.

He held on to the doorknob but didn't push it open. Instead, Conrad stood still.

"Does she know?" he whispered, gripping the doorknob lightly. He shook his head after a minute. "That's impossible."

Conrad convinced himself about the things he wanted to convince himself. He didn't want to think further, knowing that there was no way his daughter would know the secret he held about her mother.

******

Meanwhile…

Cosette let out a deep exhale as soon as she closed the door. When she turned around and caught the sight of her desk, another helpless sigh escaped her mouth.

"I can't deal with this," came out a helpless mumble, dragging her feet towards the desk. She couldn't fight it or stop herself. In the end, Cosette meticulously arranged everything back to how they were supposed to be.

Since she already knew where everything was, it didn't take her that long. It would be even faster if she weren't meticulous, but she was.

When her desk was arranged to how she was used to, she sat on the chair lazily. Her eyes scanned the desk in case there were more things she had to arrange.

"Perfect…" she whispered, but frowned, trying to shun the satisfaction in her heart. "I lost. What was there to celebrate about?"

Cosette idled on the chair, staring at the picture frame of her and Conrad. The photo was taken around three years ago.

"I don't know why I still keep this," she whispered. "We're not even smiling."

Both Cosette and Conrad in the photo were staring at the camera with poker faces. They looked even more serious than a passport photo. Both of them were sitting on the settee, Conrad wearing his formal suit while she was in this elegant dress.

As she stared at the photo, she couldn't help but recall a memory of the past. The past… as in the time before the mysterious regression.

[ SHORT FLASHBACK ]

Cosette was sitting in the driver's seat, holding a document in her hand. It was the diagnosis she received a week ago, but unlike the day she received the news, her expression remained cold.

"How stupid," she whispered, tossing the paper on the front passenger seat. Cosette then leaned back, cocking her head back, eyes closed. She breathed in and out, holding onto the steering wheel with both her hands.

"Really… stupid." She repeated, only to stay silent for the next ten minutes. When she reopened her eyes, there was nothing but emptiness within.

A deep exhale slipped past her lips, shaking her head. Cosette turned off the engine before picking up her back on the front passenger seat, letting the documents fall off the seat. When she hitched outside, Cosette put on her sunglasses and pressed the key fob to lock her car.

It had been a while since she last visited Conrad. Most of the time, she would simply stay in the parking space of the columbarium and then drive off.

Soon, she passed the reception of the columbarium, where an old fellow — the security — was sleeping with his arms folded. Cosette ignored his questionable work ethic and walked inside. Her heels clip-clopped down the tiled floor, heading to the VVIP section, where her father's niche was.

However, as she walked closer, her steps slowed down. Cosette stretched her neck, seeing a person standing in front of Conrad's niche. Her brows furrowed, wondering who could that person be.

'Did he have an affair?' she wondered, but Cosette didn't have the energy to spare to feel any emotions at the thought. She idled for a while from the distance, observing the woman standing in front where Conrad's ashes rest.

The woman was just standing in front of it, wearing a black, long coat. Her handbag was a famous luxury brand, indicating she has the money. She was also wearing black sunglasses, but by her defined jaw, Cosette could tell she was a beauty.

Cosette didn't know her father's type. So she couldn't tell if this woman was someone her father had a thing with before the incident in Sharie.

'I don't have a whole day to spare. I still have a date with Maxen.' Cosette waited for another minute, but when the woman showed no sign of leaving, she had no choice but to approach her.

"Do you know him?" was the first question Cosette asked, catching the other woman's attention. The latter snuck a look at Cosette, but then kept her head down.

"No." The woman was soft-spoken and her voice was soothing to the ear. "I just thought he looked familiar. So I was thinking about where I saw him."

"And even if you know where you saw him, he's dead." Cosette's tone was cold and distant. "If that is all, give me some time with my father."

"Ye — yes." The woman lowered her head, tipping her sunglasses up. She walked to the side, keeping her head low as if to avoid Cosette's gaze.

As the woman walked past her, Cosette arched a brow. Despite the sunglasses of the woman, she caught the mole on the woman's cheekbone, causing Cosette's jaw to tighten. However, she kept her mouth shut, prancing towards Conrad's niche.

The second Cosette stood in front of Conrad, she noticed a daisy in front of Conrad's photo.

"Don't come back here." Cosette couldn't help but speak, observing the woman from the corner of her eyes. She caught the woman stopping and looking back at Cosette, while the latter kept her eyes on Conrad's photo.

How could she not recognize that woman despite the sunglasses she was wearing? Cosette had always kept one portrait of a woman, staring at the photo while growing up, wondering about many things. Conrad didn't want to talk about her, so it was Cosette's little secret.

In other words, Cosette had memorized that person's face. And there was no way she wouldn't recognize her unless she covered her entire face.

"If you're shameless, keep it up till the end." Cosette slowly cast the woman a look, eyebrow raised. "I had always suspected you were alive, but… I don't care if you are. Just don't show up your face to me or to him ever again."

She scoffed while the woman's mouth fell open. "How insulting for you to live, but he's dead." Cosette shook her head, peeling her eyes away from the woman to Conrad's portrait.

"It would be better if you're just truly dead… than being alive all this time, but never even showed your face to me," she continued in a whisper, ignoring the woman as she went silent. "Shameless."

After that encounter, Cosette transferred Conrad to another private columbarium, as she didn't want to see that woman ever again. Even if she met that woman under different circumstances, Cosette's reaction would still be the same. After all, she grew up without a mother. She had grown past the stage of wanting to have one.

She had lived without a mother, and she would die without her.

******

[ PRESENT TIME ]

"I really hate her." Cosette sighed, shaking her head to forget about that encounter in the past. "Whatever. I don't need her in my life or in Dad's."

Cosette stared at the picture frame and smiled subtly. "We should take a new one with Max."