Helen reined her emotions in. “Where are you taking her?”Mark already had a place in mind. “Switzerland. I’ve heard of a hospital there with a stellar reputation, and I’ve sent some of my people to help facilitate her eventual staying-in. Right now, I’m making necessary arrangements to my company—I’ll be leaving some of my work to Jackson while I’m away. Naturally, I’m not inclined to hand over my duty to him. I simply am not physically available for many of my business dealings.”Helen’s eyebrows creased. “Passing some of your work to Jackson might be fine and all, but what about Little Smore? Is he joining you as well?”It was the million-dollar question that had bedeviled Mark for too many days and nights. “I… Well… To be frank, I don’t plan to bring him with us. My purpose of going there is to have Ari’s malady remedied, so bringing a child with us would only be an inconvenience. Honestly, I think it’s better to just leave him at home,” he explained. “Jackson has two children o
Perhaps the underpinning of Mark’s rationale was Mary’s age. She was so old, she could possibly die before the couple ever returned to their home country, thus dooming her to die in a foreign land. It was a rather cruel prospect that begged to be considered. Hence, in the end, Mark reasoned that it would be better for her to stay behind with Henry as the keepers of Tremont Estate.At first, Mark was worried that Smore might throw crying fits during his first few days with Jackson’s family, so he made it a routine to video call the kid since he touched down in Switzerland. That habit did not last long, because Mark soon realized the full extent of his son’s apathy—the brat never thought of talking to him or Arianne during their calls, let alone throw a fit over missing them!Time flew. Never in Mark’s wildest imagination would he have thought that he would stay in Switzerland for nineteen long years.…Nineteen years later, in the same old White Water Bay Villa, Tiffany Lane West
Aristotle rejected Jackson’s offer to lift his suitcases for him. “It’s fine, I can do it myself. Really, it’s only packed with gifts for all of you, and they are hardly heavy. By the way, Pa West? You haven’t changed a bit—look like you just leaped out of my last memory of seeing you. Where’s Aunt Tiffany and Cindy?”Jackson silently conceded that, as the child had now aged into a full-fledged grown-up, he should not insist on helping him with things he could rightly do by himself. “Well, they are waiting for you right inside,” he said instead. “Look at you! You’re home now. And Lil’ P is coming home soon, too… God, by next month, the three of you are officially reunited once more.”Aristotle smiled wordlessly and sauntered into the villa’s interior.It was but a split second, yet as Jackson stared at the young man’s back, his eyes saw Mark Tremont instead. Aristotle had too much of his father in him, and it was especially evident when one looked at him from behind. Jackson even wo
In a millisecond, Cynthia’s cheeks burned bright red and she ducked her head in panic. Her heart, like a maddened buck, refused to be still inside the cage she called her chest.Growing up, everyone had always teased Cynthia and Aristotle as some sort of one true pair. Back then, it did not mean anything to her; she was just an innocent child who had no inkling of what the adults really meant. Of course, Aristotle was always the kind-hearted, caring big brother in her life, so she slowly came to accept the bond they shared and rationalized it as the way their interaction should be.As for the adults’ suggestion, Cynthia admitted that it had also taken root in her mind. It was only after she grew up when memories of those teasing suddenly made her feel very, very self-conscious.It was undeniable. Aristotle Tremont had matured into a fine, young man—emphasis on “fine”. He had inherited every physical trait that cemented Mark and Arianne as beautiful people. Look at his piercing eyes,
It was thanks to this unknown, faceless “Rey”—who had somehow taken up space in her head—that Cynthia’s sleep that night turned fretful.Her peaceful slumber came later, yet as soon as the morning broke, she was rudely roused from her sleep by Tiffany’s wallop, causing the groggy young woman to catapult out of her bed. “Urgh, Mooooom?! What now?” she wailed. “Geez, are you even my real mother? You just can’t go on a day without picking on me in some ways, can you? I swear, I only look hideous because of your trigger-happy hands!!”Tiffany considered her half-asleep daughter’s dowdy state, her loose, baggy nightshirt, and the chaotic mane she called “hair”. Were it not for her objectively good looks, Tiffany would not even want to admit Cynthia was her daughter.“Well, get your lazy bum up and send this apple pie to Aristotle! Lemme tell you, hon, I woke up early today just to bake this for him. He hasn’t been able to enjoy good o’ American staples for years while he was stuck in F
Cynthia felt as though her heart was going to leap out of her throat right there and then, but she channeled that panic into a frantic shove instead. “Okay, okay! You deal with the pie yourself while I… I… uh, I’ll check and see if the flowers need watering!”A shadow of unnoticeable emotion briefly crossed Aristotle’s eyes. “All right,” he replied. “Say, Cindy… You’ve grown, haven’t you? Taller. Older.”Cynthia, failing to ponder more deeply about his remark, replied without sparing him a look, “I mean, duh? How many years has it been? You got a growth spurt yourself, you know. And now I can’t even reach your face anymore... Anyway, e-enough chit-chat! Go enjoy yourself!”She escaped to the yard and finally let out the breath she had been holding. She supposed folk wisdom was right: the nature of a relationship changes when people are separated from one another for too long. Even a bond that started out as inseparable could devolve into people playing out self-restraining courtes
There was a stoplight ahead. Aristotle stopped the car while it was red and gazed outside the window, his eyes grazing the stream of traffic. “Nothing of importance. Just the usual load of bull that never fails to irritate me.”He had had a rather strained relationship with Mark since he was a kid. More specifically, after he was three.All these years, the Tremonts’ father and son were connected only by a thin thread, formed from distant phone calls and nothing else. Even if they had enjoyed a close bond before the incident, the fact that it had been so loosely maintained for so long could only have sped up its deterioration.Every challenge, quandary, and storm Aristotle encountered in life, the young man had to brave through alone for nineteen long years. That was it; the toll of Mark’s steadfast commitment as a husband was negligence to his duty as a father. Aristotle had tried to be as charitable as he could, but it was an especially tall order when Aristotle himself suffered
There was something infectious about Cynthia’s smile that made Aristotle’s lips quiver on his own. “Please, I’m only tolerating your noise because it’s you. If it were literally anyone else—well, I’d make sure they don't croak at all when I’m around. Come on.”They returned to the Tremont Estate, and from there, Cynthia got into her car and drove away. Aristotle stood by the door. He watched the car vanish into the distance before turning back into the house.He was not the only audience, however, for another figure had been peering from the window upstairs, watching.“Had she taken her lunch, Agnes?” Aristotle asked his housekeeper.Agnes shot a helpless glance in the direction of the room upstairs. “Uh, she hasn’t. Miss Leigh informed me she’s feeling unwell today, and hadn’t gotten the appetite. Really, the only meal she had today up until now is… well, a bowl of oatmeal she didn’t even finish,” the woman replied. “Um… She looks really pallid, Master Tremont. Could she have