Chapter 261: It’s Too Late To Say Sorry

The dinner continued.

But the silence never went away.

It sat between Lydia and Ivan like a wall.

Neither of them tried to break it.

Lydia continued eating.

She barely even knew what she was eating anymore.

She wasn’t hungry.

She wasn’t enjoying the food.

She was only moving her fork from one side of the plate to the other because she needed something to do with her hands.

Maybe if she kept eating, she would stop thinking.

Maybe if she focused on the food, she would stop thinking about Ivan.

But it wasn’t working.

The more she tried to force herself to hate him, the more tired she became.

Across the table, Ivan remained quiet.

He didn’t touch much of his food either.

His eyes occasionally moved toward Lydia.

He wanted to speak.

But after everything that had happened, he didn’t know what he could possibly say.

So he stayed silent.

The servants were suffering through the silence with them.

No one dared to speak.

No one dared to make unnecessary noise.

Everyone was carefully watching the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess.

Some of the servants were already hoping dinner would end soon.

They had seen the couple argue before.

They had seen Lydia’s cold words and Ivan’s painful silence.

But this was different.

This silence was almost worse.

Then it happened.

Lydia’s mind was somewhere else when her knife slipped.

"Ah!"

She winced.

The sharp edge had cut her finger.

It wasn’t a deep wound, but enough blood appeared to make her immediately pull her hand back.

The reaction in the room was instant.

"Your Highness!"

A servant rushed forward.

"Get a doctor!"

"I’ll go!"

Another servant quickly turned toward the door.

Lydia barely had time to understand what was happening.

Because Ivan was already there.

He had moved so quickly that she didn’t even see him leave his seat.

"Lydia."

His voice was filled with panic.

He grabbed her hand.

His eyes immediately went to the small cut on her finger.

"You’re bleeding."

"It’s nothing..."

Before she could finish, Ivan brought her injured finger to his mouth.

He gently sucked the blood away.

Lydia froze.

Her eyes widened.

For a moment, she couldn’t breathe.

Ivan carefully lowered her hand but did not let go.

"You have to be careful."

His voice was soft but shaken.

"Don’t hurt yourself like this."

Lydia stared at him.

His eyes were filled with worry.

"You should have asked for help."

He looked at the small cut again.

"You always do this."

Lydia’s heart suddenly began beating faster.

She didn’t understand.

She really didn’t understand him.

He was looking at her as though that tiny cut had terrified him.

His hands were holding hers carefully.

Almost too carefully.

As though he was afraid she might break.

But Lydia could see the bruises on his hands.

She could see the marks on his arms.

He had spent hours training.

He had probably hurt himself again and again.

Yet he didn’t seem to care about his own injuries.

But one tiny cut on her finger had made him panic.

Why?

Why did he care?

How could he care so much now?

He had abandoned her.

He had left her alone with her pain.

He had allowed her to believe that she meant nothing to him.

So why was he acting like this?

Lydia’s eyes began to sting.

She didn’t want to cry.

Not here.

Not in front of him.

Not because of him.

"I said I’m fine."

Her voice was quiet.

Ivan didn’t seem to hear her.

"Are you sure?"

He looked at her face.

"Does it hurt?"

Lydia stared at him.

He looked genuinely frightened.

"No."

She slowly pulled her hand.

"Let go."

Ivan didn’t.

"Lydia..."

"I said let go."

His eyes remained on her.

"Are you sure you’re okay?"

Something inside Lydia finally snapped.

"Let go!"

Her voice echoed through the dining room.

Everyone froze.

Lydia pulled her hand away from him.

Ivan immediately released it.

Silence filled the room.

Every servant lowered their eyes.

No one moved.

No one dared to breathe too loudly.

Lydia looked at Ivan.

Her eyes were already filled with tears.

"Stop acting like you care about me."

Ivan’s expression changed.

Lydia’s voice trembled.

"It is infuriating."

"Lydia..."

"No."

She shook her head.

"You don’t get to do this."

Her tears finally began to fall.

"You don’t get to look at me like that."

Ivan stood silently in front of her.

Lydia wiped her cheek angrily.

"You didn’t care when you left me like I was nothing."

Her voice broke.

"You didn’t care when you left me and our baby alone."

Ivan’s face went pale.

Lydia continued.

"You didn’t care for three years."

"You didn’t care when I was suffering."

"You didn’t care when I had to face everything alone."

Her breathing became uneven.

"So why now?"

Ivan’s lips parted.

But Lydia didn’t give him a chance to speak.

"Why are you suddenly worried about me?"

She laughed bitterly through her tears.

"Because I cut my finger?"

She looked at the small wound.

"Because you saw a little blood?"

Her voice became softer.

"You don’t get to suddenly care now."

She looked directly into his eyes.

"Don’t think your care will make me forget everything you’ve done."

Her tears continued falling.

"I’ll never forgive you."

Ivan stood completely still.

There was no anger in his eyes.

No frustration.

No attempt to defend himself.

Only pain.

Lydia’s chest rose and fell.

"I should have never asked you to come."

The words left her mouth before she could stop them.

The moment she said them, she saw something break in Ivan’s expression.

His eyes lowered.

For several seconds, he said nothing.

Then he quietly nodded.

"I know."

His voice was barely audible.

Lydia stared at him.

"I don’t deserve your forgiveness."

He swallowed hard.

"I know that."

He looked at her injured finger.

His eyes were filled with regret.

"I only..."

He stopped.

He seemed unable to finish his sentence.

After a moment, he reached into his pocket and took out a clean handkerchief.

He gently took Lydia’s hand again.

This time, she didn’t pull away.

He carefully wrapped the handkerchief around her finger.

His movements were gentle.

Almost painfully gentle.

"You should have this treated."

His voice was quiet.

"It’s only a small cut, but..."

He stopped.

He couldn’t bring himself to say more.

Lydia watched him.

He looked so broken.

Not angry.

Not offended.

Just broken.

"I apologise."

He lowered his head.

"I made you uncomfortable."

His fingers slowly released hers.

"If I had known that my concern would make you feel this way..."

He paused.

"I wouldn’t have come."

Lydia’s heart dropped.

She suddenly wanted to speak.

She wanted to tell him that wasn’t what she meant.

She wanted to say that she didn’t hate him because he worried about her.

She wanted to tell him that she had only been angry because she didn’t understand why he still cared.

But her lips wouldn’t move.

Ivan stepped back.

He looked at her one last time.

There was so much sadness in his eyes that Lydia couldn’t bear to look at him.

"I’m sorry."

Then he turned around.

He walked away.

His footsteps echoed through the dining room.

One step.

Then another.

Lydia stared at his back.

Her heart began to ache.

The moment he reached the door, something inside her screamed at her to stop him.

Ivan.

Her lips moved slightly.

But no sound came out.

She could stop him.

She could call his name.

She could tell him that wasn’t why she had called him.

She could explain.

But she didn’t.

The doors opened.

Ivan walked out.

The doors closed behind him.

And he was gone.

Lydia remained standing beside the table.

Her tears continued falling.