Salt in the Wood

How long can one cling to a memory before they can no longer tell whether they are holding onto the past or losing themselves to it?

“Girl, look at her! She brought lunch to Mr. Declan again.”

“She really does come every day, huh?”

“It's pathetic, really.”

The gossips of the employees followed me throughout the halls of my husbands company, at first it was just whispers but now, they have grown bolder. When they realized I had no intention of acknowledging them they stopped hiding… Some glanced at me from their peripheral vision while others openly watched as I stood in front of the closed doors outside of my husband's office.

I didn't care about their words or insults… I had heard those words so many times that they had long lost their charms.

Desperate. Pathetic. Shameless.

They could call me whatever they wanted. Because, all I cared about was the man behind those doors. I looked down at the lunch bag from my hand. Inside it was a meal I had prepared myself that morning. I had woken up early as usual to cook and make sure everything was packed properly, choosing the dishes An usually liked and leaving out the things he disliked. I had even brought his medicine with me, which I had carefully wrapped together with the lunch so it wouldn't be damaged.

He would probably complain anyways. He always did. But that doesn't mean I would stop…

I glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. It's been three hours. I had been standing here for three hours. My feet ached, and my arm was beginning to feel heavy, but I remained where I was.

There was something comforting about simply being near him, even if he refused to see me. So I will wait for a single chance to see him

I could have left the lunch with his assistant. I could have sent someone else to deliver it. I could have simply placed it outside his office and gone home. But I didn't want to. I wanted to give it to him myself. Even if all I received in return was a scowl. Even if he told me to leave. Even if he threw the food away. As long as I could see him, even for a moment, I was satisfied.

The murmurs continued around me. “She has no dignity.”, “Why does she keep doing this when he clearly doesn't want her?”, “Does she think he'll eventually fall in love with her acting so desperately? I lowered my gaze to the lunch bag. Maybe they were right and I was foolish. But love never seemed particularly sensible to me. I would rather be foolish if it meant I could keep loving him.

Finally, the doors opened. One of the employees stepped aside, signaling that I could enter. My heart lifted immediately. After waiting for hours, I finally had the chance to see him. As I stepped inside, I saw that Declan was seated behind his desk, surrounded by documents.

He barely looked up when I entered. I didn't care about his reaction and approached him. I grabbed his face, holding it up with my hands on his jaw and stared at his face to my heart's content.

“What did I tell you?” His voice was cold. “I said stop bringing me this.” He pulled away and reached for the lunch bag. Before I could even answer he opened it, staring for a moment before letting out a tsk. His expression didn't change. He simply tossed the entire thing into a nearby trashcan. The sound of the container hitting the bottom of the bin was strangely loud in the quiet office.

I stared at it for a moment and sighed. I had expected this. I reached into my bag and took out the medicine I had brought for him. I carefully placed it on the coffee table beside his chair.

“Don't forget to take those.” I reminded, smiling gently.

He didn't answer and I didn't wait for one. I turned toward the door and walked away.

Perhaps someday he would understand. Perhaps he never would. Either way, I would remain by his side.

...

My name is Psyche Ellison, currently 23 years old, and in high society, I am known as Declan of the Aurnault family’s infamous shadow. Not even his wife, his shadow. But if you want to understand why I came to love him, we have to go back to where it all began…

I was twelve years old when I first traveled to Mistveil Village, a small part of the Mist country, with my parents. They were both doctors, the kind who believed that medicine should be given to anyone who needed it, regardless of whether they could afford it. Every few months, they would volunteer in smaller villages, offering free consultations and medicine to those who had almost no access to proper medical care.

I, unfortunately, did not share much of their enthusiasm. The entire journey to Mistveil was spent with me sulking in the back seat, my arms crossed tightly over my chest as the heat seeped through the car windows. There was no air conditioning, only the summer sun burning my skin and the occasional mosquito flying around that somehow found its way inside the car.

“You know, we're only going to stay for a week,” my mother said from the passenger seat, glancing back at me at the back seat. She must have noticed my miserable expression because she reached into her bag and handed me a few snacks.

“Don't be so grumpy. This is a great opportunity to earn some good karma, practice your medical skills, and see new places for once.” My dad advised.

I grumbled under my breath but accepted the snacks anyway. “Fine.”

I tore open the packet and began munching on the chips as I turned toward the window. Outside, endless rows of trees can be seen along the road. Every so often, the trees would thin enough for me to catch a glimpse of distant mountains beyond.. It was pretty.. But nature was only enjoyable when the sun was out. At night, it was an entirely different story.

I was afraid of the dark. Not the kind of fear where you could laugh it off after turning on a lamp. I genuinely hated being somewhere I couldn't see what was around me and the thought of spending a week in a village where there were barely any streetlights, where the roads would disappear into complete darkness after sunset, already had me regretting this trip so much.

I leaned back into my seat and sighed dramatically. After what felt like an eternity, the scenery finally began to change. The trees became less dense, and a few small houses appeared along the roadside. A wooden sign stood beside the road.

WELCOME TO MISTVEIL VILLAGE

I stared at it through the window. So… this was it.

Our car continued farther into the village before eventually stopping in front of a modest inn. My father stepped out first and began unloading our belongings while my mother opened the passenger door. “Come on, Psyche. Stop sulking and get out”

I reluctantly climbed out, grabbed my bags, and followed them inside. The inn was small but surprisingly bearable. The wooden floors creaked beneath our footsteps, and the air smelled like old wood and freshly brewed tea. It wasn't anything like the luxurious hotels I was used to staying in, but at least it was clean. My parents arranged for two rooms, one for them and one for me beside theirs.

“Don't misbehave, Psyche,” my father reminded me as he placed our bags inside. “We'll get you settled into your room. Rest for a while, then come help us later.”

“I know.” I grumbled.

He gave me a knowing look. “I'm serious.”

“I said I know.” I hauled my bags inside my room.

Satisfied, he left me alone and went with my mother to the town square “We’ll go work now. Just find us in the town square if you need anything”

For a while, I tried to make myself comfortable. Unfortunately though, there was no internet, meaning no entertainment. I tossed myself onto the bed and stared at the ceiling, hoping boredom would somehow kill me faster than the mosquitoes outside. I tried sleeping, but the unfamiliar room made it difficult. Every creak of the building caught my attention. Every unfamiliar sound outside made me open my eyes. Eventually, I gave up. If I was going to be bored, I might as well be bored somewhere else.

I left my room and headed toward the village square, where my parents had already begun setting up their temporary medical station outside the inn. The moment I arrived, I found them surrounded by villagers. People had already begun lining up. My parents worked quickly, examining patients, answering questions, and handing out medicine. Some villagers arrived carrying children, while others simply waited patiently with their hands clasped together.

It wasn't that I disliked what my parents were doing. I knew it was important. I was proud of them, Its just that I simply disliked the conditions. The heat was unbearable, and there were no proper facilities. Everyone had to stand beneath the scorching sun while waiting for their turn. I guess that's the point, why we're here to help.

I had barely been watching for a few minutes when my mother spotted me. “Psyche!”

I looked over but before I could ask what she wanted, she shoved a tray into my hands. “Go give the villagers some water. It's too hot for them to be standing around without anything to drink.”

“You're putting me to work already?” I pout.

She smiled innocently. “You're part of the medical team now.”

“I don't remember agreeing to that.” I remarked.

“You're twelve. You're not old enough to negotiate. Besides, I know you're bored out of your mind so just do it.”

I puffed out my cheeks but obediently began handing out cups of water.

“Here.”

“Thank you, young lady.”

“You're welcome.”

At first, I complained internally about every single person I had to serve. But after a while, I stopped paying attention to the heat and simply sat nearby, watching my parents work.

They were different when they were treating patients. My father was patient with everyone, listening carefully even when someone took several minutes to explain something that seemed obvious. My mother had a gentler smile than usual, reassuring nervous children while preparing their medicine. I watched them for a while. Perhaps this was why they loved their work so much. Still, watching other people get treated wasn't exactly entertaining.

After several hours, my attention began drifting toward the village around me. The square was surrounded by narrow roads, little houses with wooden fences, and small shops that looked like they had been standing there for decades. There wasn't much to do, but I found myself growing curious about what lay beyond the familiar streets.

I glanced back at my parents, they were still busy with patients. “Mom,” I called. When she didn't answer, I repeated “Mom.”

Still she said nothing. She continued writing something down while speaking to a patient. “Mom, I'm going to walk around.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she replied distractedly, waving her hand without even looking at me.

I sighed. Just glad to have the permission to get out. I placed the empty tray down and slipped away from the medical station, finally free to explore Mistveil Village on my own.

I wandered through the village without much of a destination. Every corner seemed to offer something new to look at, and before long, I found myself farther from the houses than I had intended. Eventually, I reached the forest.

I had always liked trees. It was probably a strange thing for a child to have as a favorite, but I loved how tall they were, how their branches spread above and how it looked and how it turned the sunlight into patches of shade. They were pretty, too. Even when the wind moved through them and made their leaves rustle, I could spend hours simply staring. So, naturally, I went deeper into the forest.

I wandered between the trees until I completely lost track of time. Then I noticed the light changing around me. The bright afternoon sky had begun turning orange., then pink. then purple. I froze. Oh no. I looked around. The forest suddenly seemed much bigger than it had before and I couldn't remember which path I had taken before and my heart began pounding.

I was lost.

And it was getting dark. Panic quickly took over. I turned in circles, trying to recognize something, anything but every direction looked exactly the same to me.

If I couldn't see where I was from the ground, perhaps I could see it from above, I thought. I looked around and spotted a particularly tall tree and hurried toward it. Climbing wasn't difficult for me, and soon I was high enough to see beyond the surrounding trees. I happily climbed and sat on a high branch. But, all I could see was more forest. I groaned before I turned around.

Beyond the trees was a sea. A wide stretch of blue water shimmered beneath the setting sun, the horizon glowing orange beautifully. For a moment, I completely forgot that I was lost. It was really beautiful. I climbed back down and followed the direction of the shore, not remembering that I was lost. I hurried through the trees until I reached the beach. I ran toward the water, my earlier panic completely forgotten.

The sand felt warm beneath my feet. I found a large rock near the shore and sat down, kicking off my shoes so I could dip my feet into the water. I watched the sun slowly sink beneath the horizon and it was the most beautiful thing I had seen all day.

Unfortunately, my happiness didn't last. The sky continued darkening. The sunlight disappeared. The beach became just an endless dark shadow. I slowly looked around and my smile vanished. The sea, which had looked beautiful only moments ago, now stretched into a vast darkness. The sound of the waves no longer felt peaceful. Without the sunlight, every movement beyond the shore seemed frightening.

I was afraid of the dark. My eyes began filling with tears. “I want to go home…” I sobbed. I quickly stood up and grabbed my shoes. I didn't know which direction I was supposed to take anymore. I simply ran, desperate to get away from the darkness.

Then my foot caught against one of the rocks and I stumbled and fell. Pain shot through my knees and when I looked down and saw the scrapes beginning to bleed. The tears I'd been holding back finally spilled over. I curled up against the rock and began sobbing.

I wanted my parents

I wanted to go home.

I wanted the sun to come back.

Then, through my tears, I heard footsteps. A small hand reached toward me. I slowly looked up. And in front of me, a boy stood, he was around my age. He had dark hair, fair skin, and a lean frame. The moonlight barely illuminated his face, but somehow, he didn't seem frightening at all.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I couldn't answer. He crouched beside me and helped me sit up. His expression changed when he noticed my scraped knees.

“You're hurt.” He quickly picked up my shoes from where I had dropped them beside the rock before kneeling down in front of me and carefully putting them back on my feet.

I sniffled. “You're really handsome,” I blurted out.

He stared at me, then he laughed. I didn't understand what was so funny.

He reached into the sling bag hanging across his shoulder and pulled out a small bandage. He cleaned the scrape as carefully as he could before wrapping it.

“There,” he said. “Better.”

I nodded. He wiped away the tears on my cheeks with the back of his hand.

“Where are you from? I don't think I've seen you around here before. And why were you crying?”

“My family is here for a medical mission.”

“Oh.” He looked toward the direction of the village. “You're from the village nearby, aren't you?”

I nodded. Then I whispered the truth. “I'm afraid of the dark.”

He looked around at the dark beach and then back at me. “Then let's go before it gets any darker.” He held out his hand.

I hesitated only for a moment before taking it. He led me back toward the village, walking slowly enough that I could keep up. Whenever I became frightened by the darkness around us, he would point out something ahead, a tree, a path, a familiar landmark and tell me we were getting closer. He would distract me by talking about himself and asking me stuff about myself.

Little by little, I stopped crying. For the first time that night, the darkness didn't feel quite so frightening. Maybe because I wasn't alone. Maybe because I could see his face whenever I looked up. Whatever the reason, I remember that walk clearly. I remember his voice. I remember the way he patiently guided me through the forest. And I remember thinking that I never wanted to forget him.

When we finally reached the village, my parents were already searching for me. The moment they saw me, they rushed over, clearly relieved that I was safe. I immediately began telling them everything. About getting lost, about the beach. And about the boy who had found me. My parents thanked him and insisted that he stay for dinner as a way of showing their gratitude. He agreed, and for the rest of the evening, I wouldn't stop talking about him. He even slept in my room for the night.

The next morning, he showed me his home. It was near the shore. After that, we spent the rest of my family's stay together whenever we could. It was only a week. But somehow, that week stayed with me for years.

I never told anyone just how much that boy had come to mean to me. Even now, there are some memories I prefer to keep to myself.

Eight years later, I saw him again. By then, I was twenty years old and had become a doctor, a cardiologist, to be exact. It was a busy shift when an elderly woman suddenly collapsed from cardiac arrest in a busy street.

Her name was Zelma… Zelma Aurnault. There was barely any time to hesitate. I did everything I could, and eventually, I was able to perform the surgery that saved her life. I didn't ask for payment. I simply did what any doctor should have done, like what my parents had done.

What I didn't know was that Grandma Zelma wasn't an ordinary elderly woman. She was the madam of the Aurnault household. And she had a grandson.

Declan Aurnault.

Not long afterward, Grandma Zelma arranged for me to marry him. Declan didn't want the marriage. He believed I had deliberately orchestrated the entire situation to enter the Aurnault family. He already had someone he loved, a former high school sweetheart who had gone abroad and he had no intention of marrying me.

But Grandma Zelma had tied his inheritance and his position within the Aurnault Group to the marriage. So he had no choice but to accept. Not because he wanted me or that he loved me. He simply had no choice.

Three years have passed since then. Three years of being his wife. Three years of trying to reach someone who never seemed to look my way. And despite everything, I remained devoted to him. Perhaps that was foolish. Perhaps everyone who whispered about me in those hallways was right. But there was one thing they didn't understand.

I didn't need Declan to love me. All I ever wanted was to see him…