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
Agnes let out a hum of assent and headed back into the kitchen, her mind already back to her duties.It was then that, suddenly, Raven descended the stairs from the first floor. Her body, already frail, seemed to have become a lot more enervated by whatever diseases that plagued her. Even her gait gave the impression that walking itself was too strenuous for her if she did not help herself via the handrail.“Ares! Where are you going?” she called out.Aristotle paused in the middle of changing his shoes. “Dinner. Is there a problem? If you’re feeling really sick, I’ll order someone to send you to the hospital right now.”Fear undergirded her eyes. “No, I don’t want to go to the hospital. You know it’s incurable, Ares. It won’t help, and I’m stuck like this forever. It’s just that… You brought me to a place that is very alien to me, and being alone gives me anxiety, you know? Must you go? Can’t you keep my company, please…?”Her tone was so feeble, so close to pleading, that most m
Since that incident, Raven’s daily expenses had become Aristotle’s responsibility. This was especially germane due to the injuries she suffered, as they hamstrung her so much that she could no longer resume her part-time work to survive. Taking her under his wing was the least he could do. Since she temporarily lost the ability to care for herself, he invited her to move into his luxury mansion in France. Then came the time for Aristotle to return home, and he brought her along as well.Granted, if he had any other choice, he would not have chosen to do this, either—Aristotle was used to being by himself. Having an additional member by his side felt awkward.Raven Leigh started out as his compatriot, but at a young age, her mother married a French man. Shortly after, she brought young Raven with her abroad. One day her mother died, and she soon found it rendered her invisible to her stepfather’s eyes. The young woman began living on her own for several years before getting into the
Cynthia stuck her tongue out at Jackson before turning to take a sip of the wine, letting its sweetness pervade her tongue. She fell in love with it at first taste. “Mm, it’s good!”Aristotle’s lips curled slightly. “Don’t drink too much.”Tiffany considered him and mulled her question over for a while, before finally asking, “So… You tied down to a girl yet?”That came out of nowhere. Aristotle had to reel back a little after his initial bewilderment. “Wha? No. Of course not. Why did you ask?” he replied. “I’m afraid my busy life has provided me no luxury of time to look for one.”Cynthia’s tongue moved on its own. “But you brought a girl back home already,” she blurted out. “How’s that a no?”Aristotle seemed a little helpless. “No, you misunderstand. She’s just a schoolmate. A bit more than an acquaintance, but not much. Her stay is temporary.”Tiffany let out a long sigh of relief. “Ohhhhh! Well, that’s good news! I really thought you were taken.”Sitting next to her, Jackso