CHAPTER 5

COMPASSIONATE STRANGER

Mila’s POV

“You're going to injure yourself if you continue hitting your hand on the grave, Milady.” a young man said as he approached me, his black suit complimenting my outfit. Raising my head slowly, I met the most beautiful set of eyes. Hair as dark as the starry night, and skin as fair as milk. His perfect structure wasn't the one you see every day. He looked mysterious and also handsome at the same time.

After staring at him for a while, I averted my gaze and continued staring at my mother's grave. With the cold touch of the rain against my skin, I shivered slightly, but I wasn't willing to leave. Since I wasn't allowed to spend her last time with her, I’ll probably just talk to her here.

My lips stretched into a small smile as I stared at her picture. Just like me, she was smiling in that picture. Her smile was as bright as the sun, and it warmed my cold heart. I watched my bruised knuckles and sighed. With blood dripping from it, I wondered why the pain wasn't as much as I expected.

Perhaps it was because my heart was numb? The pain in my heart had blocked every other one I was supposed to feel. I let out a small chuckle when I remembered how my mother once cared for my wounds. She was a pure soul, and her heart was just like that of an angel. This world was full of darkness, but she was that one person who talked about seeing the good in everything.

Even after passing through a turbulent time, my mother would make a joke and try not to make it so serious. She would talk about good times and try to put a smile on each of our faces. There was never going to be anyone who would fill her space. Her space in my heart could never be occupied by anyone.

Suddenly, I couldn't feel the soothing touch of the rain against my skin. Did the rain stop? So soon? Confused, I raised my head to see the man standing next to me, protecting me from the rain. Frustrated, I shot him a disapproving look, asking him to leave but he stayed there, giving me the attention I never asked for.

I wanted to be alone. Couldn't the world hear that?

The rain. I wanted It to wash my pain away, but he was blocking it. Just…just why was everyone hell-bent on driving me insane? Couldn't they just leave me alone? Leave me to myself?

Not ready to engage in a silly conversation, I dropped a piece of flower on the grave and turned around to leave. The young man gave me an uncomfortable feeling, and leaving his presence was the only way I could feel safe.

Walking across the street in search of a taxi, I let my tears down, not caring about the fact that I was in public. Even with the little time I spent with Mom at the cemetery, my heart was still empty. It was filled with guilt and no amount of rain would ever wash it away.

Getting into the taxi, I leaned my head on the side and tried to calm my nerves. My emotions were a mess but the fact that my father had buried my mother immediately still baffled me. His action was something I never expected.

“Mila, where have you been? We've been waiting for you.” Sara, my mom's little sister said as soon as I walked in. I raised a brow, giving her a questioning gaze as I was surprised by her presence. “Why are you coming in so late? Geez, you're drenched by the rain!” she gasped, moving closer to check out my body.

With a blank look, I turned to look at Sara who had a worried expression etched on her features, “What are you doing here? Where's dad?” I asked coldly, discarding their questions. “Where's Jett and Lila?” I added, confused as the house looked deserted, just like the cemetery.

“They're in their rooms,” Sara responded, staring at me warily.

“And dad?” I asked, my voice cold and detached. The fact that my father had proceeded with my mother's funeral showed that she had given her consent. Why would she give her consent to such? Allowing my father to proceed with the funeral without her children being present was the highest degree of stupidity.

“Your father is in the study,” Sara replied, and without bothering to wait to engage in further talks, I walked straight to my father's study room. Placing my hand on the door, I knocked on it slowly and waited patiently for a response. After a while, my father's voice rang out and I twisted the doorknob to go in.

Just as I had expected, my father was going through some paper files on the day of his wife's death. I couldn't believe it. Was he trying to occupy his mind with the work, or he wasn't disturbed by it at all?

“Mila, how are you? I don't want you to think too much about it. You'll be fine.” he said as he gave me a warm smile. Deep down I didn't want to think about it, but the time we've spent together and the memories we've shared, it was way too hard to forget.

Would I ever be fine?

Will I ever be able to move on?

“Why are you drenched?” he asked, his brows furrowed in concern as he stared at me.

“Dad, let's leave that. There's something I need to ask you.” I whispered, not bothering to reply to his question. He had deprived me of seeing my mother's face for one last time, and I didn't think I was ever going to forgive him for doing that.

“I need to tell you something too, Mila. Would you like to go first?” he asked, a small smile plastered on his lips. I was surprised he could be so calm on a day like this. However, I was curious to hear what he had to say.

“No… you go first.” I whispered, trying to sound as polite as possible. He closed the file he was going through and gave me a serious look, “Mila, I've married your mother's sister, Sara…”

“My..my..mother's sister?