Nareswara fell silent.
That simple sentence hurt far more than any anger or shouting could have. He stared at Arrabella for a long time, as though searching her face for something that would allow him to argue back.
But there was nothing.
Arrabella wasn't angry. She wasn't crying, either.
It was precisely the woman's calmness that made Nareswara feel even guiltier.
“Your trust?” he repeated quietly.
Arrabella nodded. “Yes.”
She walked over to the desk and turned off the computer screen, which was still displaying the recording of Sinta taking her jewelry. Then Arrabella looked back at Nareswara.
“All this time, I always tried to respect Mom because she's your mother. I held myself back every time she made snide remarks at me. I stayed quiet when she treated me as though I wasn't worthy of being your wife.”
Nareswara lowered his gaze.
“But every time I complained, you always told me I needed to understand Mom's feelings.”
Arrabella gave him a faint smile. There wasn't the slightest hint of happiness in it.
“So I tried to understand. I tried to understand why Mom didn't like me. I tried to understand why Mom was always interfering in our marriage. Even when she said hurtful things about my family, I stayed quiet because I didn't want to put you in a difficult position.”
Nareswara clenched his fists. He still remembered everything.
What Arrabella said was completely true. All this time, he had always believed Sinta without ever listening to Arrabella—not even once. Besides, Arrabella was the wife he had never wanted. Why should he defend her in this house? To him, Arrabella had been completely unimportant in his life.
That was also why Nareswara had put Arrabella's room in the servants' quarters.
Time and again, Arrabella had come to him with a miserable expression and told him that his mother had mistreated her again. And every time, he had given her the same answer.
“Mom's just like that. You need to be more patient.”
Back then, he had thought it was a way to maintain peace. Now he realized that peace had been built by sacrificing his wife's feelings.
“And now,” Arrabella continued, “when I finally have proof, Mom still says I set her up.”
“Arrabella.”
“What hurts more isn't that Mom took my jewelry.” Arrabella met her husband's eyes. “What hurts is that I only felt you were on my side after you saw the recording for yourself.”
Nareswara couldn't answer. Because he knew she was right. He had always defended his mother.
If that recording hadn't existed, would he still have believed Arrabella?
Of course Nareswara never would have believed her.
And that was the most shameful truth of all.
“I'm sorry.”
Arrabella fell silent.
“I'm truly sorry.”
“For what?”
“For everything.”
Nareswara stepped closer. “For every time I made you feel alone. For every time I defended Mom without listening to your explanation. For every time I treated your problems with Mom as nothing more than petty arguments.”
He stopped a few steps in front of Arrabella.
“I was wrong.”
Arrabella stared at him for a long moment. “I don't need you to say you're wrong just because you saw the evidence today.”
“I know.”
“Then don't just apologize.”
Nareswara nodded slowly. “What should I do?”
“For the first time, stand by my side not because I'm your wife. I want everyone to know the truth tomorrow—that I am Nareswara Danendra's lawful wife.
But Nareswara immediately refused. “Arrabella, don't overstep your boundaries!”