Chapter
Christine had a pair of beautiful, almond-shaped eyes that leaned toward the seductive side. Even at [ço], she looked barely 50—a classic, elegant beauty. Seeing her long-absent niece, Christine lit up. “When did you get here?”
Autumn replied, “I arrived when you were talking about giving Emilia her birthday present.”
Autumn kept her gaze steady, her eyes sharp as a line drawn in ink. “Last month was my birthday. Do you remember, Christine?”
Meeting Autumn’s quiet, distant gaze, Christine’s expression faltered for a moment.
Autumn said, “If you really considered it important, no matter how busy you were, you’d remember. Just like me—I remember your birthday.”
Christine’s expression turned cold. “Autumn, what are you trying to say? Are you blaming me?”
Looking at her changed expression, Autumn suddenly realized—she was jealous. She hadn’t felt jealous even when Damien was with Emilia. She had simply accepted it and stepped away after the divorce. Christine was her elder, her family, and looked so much like her mother, Virginia. It was only natural to crave some attention and affection from her. Feeling jealous wasn’t too much to ask.
And yet, all she did was mention a birthday—she hadn’t even brought up Damien—and Christine was already upset with her.
Autumn clenched her hands and said softly, “I want to blame you. But I don’t have the right to.”
The moment the words left her mouth, she inexplicably began to cry. Even though she hadn’t felt the crying coming, her body had reacted before her mind could catch up, triggering a wave of emotion she couldn’t stop. Maybe it was because she hadn’t seen Christine in a year. Seeing her now reminded her of Virginia, and adding to that, everything with Damien. At this lowest point in her life, to realize Christine cared more about someone else, it was hard not to get emotional.
The more she thought about it, the more the tears came. This time it wasn’t silent. Her whole face crumpled with grievance, lips trembling. Christine watched her fall apart and felt like a knife was cutting through her chest. She thought of her older sister, Virginia—driven to madness by a man. She had lost her mind, but at least she was still alive. Then, three years ago, she disappeared, sneaking off to sea. Her body had never been found, but after all this time, it was almost impossible that she was still alive. Autumn had lost her mother so young, and her father had been unreliable. Life hadn’t been easy for her.
The more Christine thought about it, the more her heart ached. She walked over and wrapped her arms around Autumn. She rubbed her back, trying to comfort her.
Autumn’s body went still. The familiar scent on Christine’s clothes filled her nose. It was the hug she had longed for for so long, but instead of joy, all she felt was bitterness. She held on for a second, then pulled away.
The sudden rejection left Christine frozen. She stared at the coldness in Autumn’s eyes. “Autumn, what’s wrong?”
Autumn wiped her tears. “I come home once a month. Christine, you come twice a month. And yet, we haven’t run into each other in a year. The fact that we did today…” Her voice, so composed, sounded almost too casual. “Christine, you came here for something, didn’t you?”
Christine stayed silent for a moment, then said, “You’re awfully sharp.”
Autumn didn’t react to the compliment. “So, what is it?”
Christine suddenly reached out, took Autumn’s hand, and gently patted the back of it. “I missed you. I just wanted to ask how you’ve been. What you’ve been up to?”
Autumn replied, “I’ve been doing well.”
Christine said, “Why are you acting like this with me? You don’t look okay.”
Autumn looked straight into her eyes. “Christine, what do you really want to ask?”
Christine hesitated for a while, then finally spoke. “I wanted to ask about you and Damien.”