Mag-log inI'm getting married soon—but not to my boyfriend of six years, Soren Cruz. He's the mafia boss based in Mehico and is currently busy "working" with his new underboss, Thea Ramirez. Lately, he's been so swamped with work that he completely forgot about me and our promise to get married on our sixth anniversary. At the Christmas party, he ordered Thea's favorite almond cake. He forgot I'm allergic to almonds. While his friends were messing around, a slice of cake hit me right in the face. I fainted on the spot. When I woke up, I told Mom I didn't want to marry Soren anymore. I'm going back.
view more吐く息が白い。比喩ではない。文字通り、白い霧がパソコンの液晶画面にかかって、打ち込んだばかりの文字を曇らせていく。
白河小夜子(しらかわ・さよこ)は画面の曇りを手で払って、かじかんで感覚のなくなった指先を口元に寄せた。「はぁーっ……」
温かい呼気を吹きかける。一瞬だけ指先に血が通う感覚が戻り、ジンとした痛みが走った。
(よし、まだ動く)
小夜子は着古したフリースの袖をまくり上げ、再びキーボードに向かった。現在時刻は午前4時。場所は、名門・白河家の広大な敷地の片隅にある「離れ」。
かつて物置として使われていた粗末な小屋が、小夜子の生活スペースだ。隙間風が容赦なく吹き込む室内は、外気と変わらない冷え込みようである。 暖房器具はあるにはあるが、義母によって電源コードを没収されていた。「電気代の無駄よ。どうせパソコンの熱で温まるんでしょう?」
そんな無茶苦茶な理屈を押し付けられて、早5年。
父である白河家当主の愛人の子として生まれ、母の死とともにこの家に引き取られて10年。 義母と義姉、父からの不当な扱いは年を追うごとに増すばかりだった。 中学までは義務教育だからと、かろうじて学校に通わせてもらえた。 けれど高校に行くのは許されなかった。 今は亡き恩人、この家の執事であった藤堂がこっそりと、私費を使って通信制の高校に入れてくれたため、高卒の資格だけは取ることができた。 親切にしてくれたのは藤堂だけだ。その彼が亡くなってしまった現在、この家に小夜子の味方は一人もいなかった。人間は環境に適応する生き物だと言うが、小夜子はひどく冷え込む空気の中で、驚くほどの速度でタイピングを続けていた。
というのも、手を止めたら凍えるからだ。画面に並ぶのは、難解なフランス語と専門用語。『ホスピタリティの根源における「主と客」の非対称性について』
これが、今回の論文のタイトルである。小夜子は机の脇に積み上げられた分厚い洋書――『欧州ホテル産業の歴史』――をめくり、該当箇所を翻訳しながら引用していく。
(19世紀のパリにおけるサービス規範……ここ、使えるわね)
ふと、暗い窓ガラスに自分の姿が映り込んだ。そこにいるのは、精彩を欠いた影のような女だった。
手入れを知らない黒髪は、艶こそ失われているものの、夜の闇を溶かしたように細くしなやかに背中へ流れている。 色素の薄い肌は、陶磁器のように白い。それは健康的な白さではなく、陽の光を浴びることを許されない、地下室の花のような青白さだ。 頬は痩せて丸みを失い、身体は一抱えできそうなほど薄い。粗末な服の袖から伸びる手首はあまりに華奢で、力を込めれば折れてしまいそうに見える。 だがその顔立ちは整っていた。長い睫毛(まつげ)が落とす影の下、切れ長の瞳だけが、暗がりの中で静かな光を宿している。本来であれば美しい女性と言えただろう。でも。
The next morning, I drew the curtains open—only to find Soren kneeling at my doorstep. It was pouring outside, but he made no effort to shield himself. He just knelt there, unmoving, letting the rain drench him completely. His face was haggard and drawn. At this rate, he looked nothing like the confident, composed man I saw yesterday. It seemed as if he'd aged overnight. I stared at him, not the least bit shaken. At first, I didn't intend to acknowledge him. But he seemed determined to stay there, no matter what. He didn't budge an inch; even when night fell, he remained at the same spot.I let out a sigh of resignation and stepped outside. The moment Soren saw me, a flicker of hope lit up in his eyes. He looked at me, his gaze full of affection. "Lyra, I knew you still cared. Otherwise, you wouldn't have come out to see me."I frowned and tried to shake off his hand, but he only tightened his grip. Pulling out the album I'd thrown away yesterday, he started flipping
I stared at him, feeling momentarily fazed. I had no idea why he was here, or why he was saying such things. "Soren, what nonsense are you talking about?" Dad was the first to react. He swerved toward the security guards and barked, "Get him out of here!"But Soren pushed the guards aside and rushed straight toward me. "Lyra, you can't do this to me!" he pleaded, his eyes filled with despair. "How could you leave me and marry someone else? You're mine… You've always been mine!"I stared at him coldly, completely unfazed. Theodore immediately stepped in front of me, trying to shield me. I gently patted his shoulder, signalling that I could handle this myself. "Soren, have you forgotten that we've already broken up?" I asked icily. He froze, as if he couldn't believe what he'd just heard. "Why?" he blurted out, looking somewhat frantic. "Was it because of Thea? But I already got rid of her! I'll never see her again. Please forgive me, okay?"I stared at him, realizing ho
I didn't know what he was up to—and honestly, I couldn't care less. The ceremony was about to begin. Mom ushered me to the dressing room to get ready. As I was getting my makeup done, she rambled on about the details of the ceremony. "It's simple," she said. "Head to the church first, then Theodore will walk you down the aisle. Then finally, the two of you will exchange rings…"It wasn't until she mentioned the groom's name that I realized I didn't even know his full name. "Mom, what's Theodore's full name?" I couldn't help but ask. Mom was stunned for a while, then she chuckled. "Silly you! How could you not know your fiance's name?"I scratched my head sheepishly. "I just… never got around to asking.""He's Theodore Vasiliev," Mom said with a smile. "The youngest son of the Vasiliev family. In fact, you actually met when you were kids.""We did?" I was surprised. Nodding with a smile, Mom said, "Yeah. You were both really young back then. You probably don't remember,
The day after I returned home, Mom arranged for a top designer to come over and tailor a wedding dress just for me. As I slipped into the pristine white gown and looked at myself in the mirror, a wave of emotions suddenly swept over me. Six years ago, I used to imagine how I'd look in a wedding dress on my big day. But now, Soren was no longer the groom. Mom looked at me, her eyes teary as she whispered, "Sweetheart, you look amazing."I smiled and said nothing. She pulled out her phone and snapped countless photos of me. Then she sent them all to her close friends. Not long after, those pictures made it onto social media as well. Meanwhile, I changed out of the gown and went back to my room to rest. I had just laid down when I came across a new post from Thea. In the photo, she was lying in a hospital bed, a bright smile lighting up her pale face. Soren sat by her side, one hand cupping her face, the other holding up his phone for a selfie."Thank you for Soren's excep






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