Aurora did not interrupt him, as this story was just beginning, and her heart began to fluctuate with his tale. As a woman, she was deeply attuned to the pain he described-there had been times when she was physically unable to move, and she could only desperately shouting “no,” and calling out for Julian. Fortuitously, Julian had intervened in time to prevent the ordeal, unlike his mother, who was not so lucky, which fueled Julian’s hatred towards Joaquin.
Despite Joaquin’s irascibility and his disregard for his wishes by arranging an engagement, she could still see the love for his son in his eyes. However, with such a past, no matter what he did, Julian would never accept him. There is no love without reason, nor hatred without cause, and Joaquin’s love was so selfish that it threatened to destroy a budding flower.
This was why Julian had chosen to silently protect rather than possess, she guessed.
“Didn’t your mother ever tell your father about these things?” she asked gently.
“Do you think a woman who yearned to escape would care about such matters? She saw right through it-his wife was consumed by jealousy and bitterness. She had married him not out of affection, and it was only in his later years that he understood what liking someone meant.
Though she spent her life with him, she never received a speck of his love, and this resentment twisted her deeply. She hated my mother, whose sorrow was greater than heart could bear.
Even though she stopped seeking death, she would never forgive him, nor would she love him. Since she did not love him, why would she be jealous? His wife, clever as she was, knew how much he adored my mother and didn’t dare to truly harm her, resorting only to petty schemes.
Later, when my mother had me, though I was not the daughter he had wanted, he was happy just because I was my mother’s child. At that time, he thought about annulling his marriage to officially marry my mother, but she threatened suicide to stop these plans from happening.
She had always pursued freedom, let alone decide on her own marriage; she would never marry a man she did not love. She would not marry, nor would she agree to his absurd demands, and he thought that having me, a child would tie a mother down. He gradually relaxed his supervision, but the surface calm was deceptive. When I was three years old, my mother still left.
All she left me was her paintings and a necklace that represented her identity. I finally understood why she would correct me immediately if I made even a slight mistake, why she taught me life’s philosophies at such a young age. Why she never wanted the position of his official wife, she lived just for me, and had no connection with the Alvarez family at all.
She said that when she died, she wanted half of her ashes scattered across the mountains and lakes, and the other half returned to her home; she did not want to be buried in the Alvarez family’s crypt…”
At this point, Aurora felt warm liquid trickling down the back of her neck; he was crying. A child having to accept the death of his most beloved mother was a feeling she could understand, as she had a similar experience.
She turned around, nestled into his chest, and gently hugged his waist, hoping to comfort him in such a manner.
“Back then, I was too young to understand why she did what she did, as she spent a long time locked up in the Alvarez family villa, developing a tendency towards depression.
Sometimes, when she couldn’t sleep through the night, he would give her a small dose of sleeping pills, all of which she pretended to need. She hoarded all the pills and eventually took a large dose.
That afternoon, she cooked my favorite dish as usual. I saw her sitting on the swing in the yard, her eyes slightly closed and the corners of her mouth turned up; I thought she was just sleeping, but little did I know she would never wake up again. I quietly took the necklace she left for me, along with her diary, which documented all her affairs.
Back then, I couldn’t read many characters, so I hid it under my bed and studied hard every day until I finally learned about her past. Everyone thought she was a common girl who had climbed her way up by attaching herself to him, but only I knew the truth wasn’t like that at all!
After my mother passed away, his wife finally breathed a sigh of relief, secure that no one would usurp her position, but I became a thorn in her side. I was too young then to seek out my mother’s family, so I had to bear all the grief silently in my heart.
When my mother gave birth to me, he made a will stating that my mother and I could inherit most of the Alvarez family’s fortune. Although the will was never made public, his wife had discovered it early on, and she hated me deeply, employing the same tactics on me that she had used on my mother.
You know, every time he was not at home, it was a nightmare for me. One winter, it snowed heavily while he was abroad. I was about five or six years old, and they accused me of stealing a pair of earrings, calling me a lowlife and punishing me by making me kneel in the snow.
Back then, I was insignificant and weak, and all the Alvarez family members saw me as an annoyance, a splitter of their shares. If I refused to kneel, several adults would kick my knees and forcibly press me into the snow, spitting on me.
They called me the illegitimate child of a mistress. The snow was beautiful that day, but it starkly contrasted their ugly faces!” Aurora thought she had suffered enough in the Montgomery family, but Julian’s suffering was a thousand times worse than hers.
“Stop, Julian, I shouldn’t have asked,” she said, never having imagined he had such a heavy past, which was more than just being illegitimate.
Julian’s gaze drifted as he continued, “My mother never cared for anything from the Alvarez family, and neither do I. I don’t need to explain myself to them. As a child, I appeared to be his most beloved son, but behind the scenes, I was beaten and kicked, living a bitterly hard life.
Even so, I never gave up on myself; I wanted to make myself better, not to disappoint my mother, and to meet her relatives. The year I met you, the Alvarez family was going on vacation, and seeing the opportunity, I went with them. I took great pains to find my mother’s relatives. My grandparents and my aunt were very kind to me, just as gentle as my mother was.
They couldn’t believe my mother was no longer alive. Although we had lost contact for over ten years, subconsciously they still hoped she was alive and well. I returned my mother’s necklace and diary to them, and as she had instructed, buried her in the family estate.”