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“Tell me, please. I need to know.”
“Why? So you can pity her? Feel sorry for not being there? What is your angle exactly?”
“Because I might be becoming like her,” the words leave my mouth in a haunted whisper.
My fingers shake until the towel nearly falls. My teeth start to chatter, but it’s not due to the cold.
Aiden regards me for a second too long, not speaking. I’m not sure if he’s weighing the words he’ll say or just making sense of mine.
“What gave you that idea?”
“I think I’m having hallucinations. Things I swear happened aren’t real, and I’m starting to doubt the things that did happen.”
“That does sound like Alicia.” His voice is calm, low. He rests his elbow on the armrest and leans his head on his knuckles. “She had nights where she insisted she saw ghosts. She wrote about them and even sang them a lullaby. Levi and I thought it was fun, but Uncle James, and especially Jonathan, forbid us from seeing her when she was in that state.”
“Was it…bad?”
“Not when I was young, no. She used to read to me and circle words she thought were interesting. I think she got too bad too fast as I grew up.” His fist clenches. “And Jonathan did nothing to help her.”
I see it then. The grudge. The pain.
It was unnoticeable at first because, like his father, Aiden traps his feelings in a vault. It could be due to his abnormal childhood, losing his mother while being so young, or being raised by a control freak like Jonathan. It could be all of them.
The fact remains that Aiden blames his father for Alicia’s death. Just like I did in the past. I thought he didn’t protect her and that, because of his disregard, my sister died too soon.
“Was Jonathan too negligent?”
“To her physical needs? No. But to her emotional ones?” He scoffs as if that’s all the answer I need.
“I’m so sorry.”
He pauses, lifting his head a bit. “What are you apologising for?”
“Not being there when she left. It would’ve been different.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” he says, but there’s no harshness behind it. “It wouldn’t have been.”
“It would’ve. For both of us.”
Maybe if I’d been there, I would’ve somehow filled the emotional gap between him and his father. Maybe they could’ve anchored me after losing the only two people I considered family.
Maybes are too cruel.
The fact that those things didn’t happen and never will hurts worse than physical pain.
“You’re not her,” Aiden whispers.
“I know. I never wanted to be.”
“No. You’re not her.” There’s no accusation in his voice. It’s more like…sadness? “You won’t fall like she did.”
“What makes you think that?”
He hesitates. It’s the first time I’ve witnessed Aiden hesitating. “Jonathan never looked at her the way he looks at you.”
My breath shortens at his words, but before I can say anything, Elsa saunters in carrying a mug of hot chocolate and places it between my stiff fingers. The warmth dissipates some of the cold, but it doesn’t fight off the tremors.
I don’t miss how Aiden’s eyes follow Elsa’s every movement as if she’s the magnet to his steel. It’s like he’s physically unable to keep his attention off her.
