Chapter 69
If you Don’t Love Me, I Will Die
The door closed firmly as Viola Brontë stared blankly.
Watching all this from a distance, I rose from my seat, took off my crumpled hat, and approached Viola.
âIt didnât go as planned.â
âI was expecting that.â
Viola attempted a smile, but it wasnât received as such.
When she left for the East, did she know she would become such a hated parent by her own child?
Viola Brontë left for the East when she was twenty-two, just after getting married and having a child.
A young age, indeed.
She was young enough to think chasing her dreams was more important than family.
So, it was understandable enough why she left Ania behind and went to the East.
But even amidst that understanding, there was something I couldnât comprehend.
âMay I ask you something?â
âYes, anything.â
I took a deep breath and spoke up.
âI can understand going to the East at a young age⦠but I heard you didnât send a single letter. Is that true?â
Viola couldnât easily respond to my question.
But there was no look of confusion or injustice on her face.
It was a nostalgic gaze as if recalling a distant past.
âYes. Thatâs right.â
âWhy? Youâre her mother.â
If she truly missed her.
If she loved my daughter and came back, sending a few letters shouldnât have been so difficult.
âWas there some unavoidable reason?â
Perhaps someone, like Ania and I, had intervened, I asked, thinking aloud, but Viola only shook her head.
âNo. Just⦠just.â
âIf you say that, then thereâs nothing more I can do to help. To forgive a mother who didnât send a single letter⦠how can I say that to Ania?â
âThatâs not it.â
After Violaâs statement, there was silence for a while, so I pulled out a chair and sat down.
Viola drank from the wine on the table for a while before finally speaking again.â
âI simply couldnât muster the courage to do so.â
âCourage?â
âYes.â
âIs courage necessary to send a letter to your daughter?â
âIt sounds absurd, but thatâs what happened.â
She let out a bitter, empty laugh before continuing.
âWhen I returned to the estate after five years of being away in the East, I wondered how much my recently born child must have grown⦠I returned with such anticipation. I was so curious about how much my beloved child had grown. But do you know what happened?â
I quietly shook my head.
âShe didnât recognize me. Ania hid behind her fatherâs back and smiled at me. I thought sheâd recognize me as her mother⦠but to Ania, I was just a stranger.â
âSo, you couldnât send a letter⦠because of that?â
âYes, thatâs right.â
There was a depth of sadness in Violaâs eyes.
âI might have realized by then that it was too late to reverse anything. I didnât know back then that being a parent means raising a child with love, not just giving birth to them.â
Viola said this and rose from her seat.
âAre you leaving?â
âI suppose.â
âFor now⦠as a guest, please stay at the mansion. Iâll let them know in advance.â
âThank you.â
Seeing her lonely figure hunched over, I sighed.
Pride and stubbornness could be so strong while having so little self-esteem.
The words âmotherâ and âdaughterâ fit them perfectly.
But at least there was a possibility.
Ania didnât seem to hate her mother entirely. If she did, she wouldnât have entered the restaurant in the first place.
Viola Brontë, who had thoughtlessly abandoned her child, wasnât as thoughtless as I had imagined.
At the very least, she seemed to know what she had done wrong.
Compared to her husband, who didnât even know what he had done wrong, there was indeed a possibility.
âWhat to do with these twoâ¦â
***
After returning to the mansion, I headed straight to Aniaâs room, but she wasnât there.
I knew exactly where she would be when she wasnât in her room.
As expected, when I headed to the garden, Ania sat on a bench, gazing at the sky.
I approached her and draped a coat over her shoulders.
âEdward.â
âItâs still cold. Youâll catch a cold sitting out here. Especially with your health not being the best.â
âHmm.â
Ania chuckled softly, but it wasnât a particularly joyful laugh.
âCan we talk?â
âYeah.â
Ania lifted one corner of her mouth slightly.
âEdward⦠I understand your feelings well enough, but I hope you wonât be like this anymore.â
âIâm sorry if I upset you.â
âThat doesnât matter, but⦠no matter what, I wonât ever accept her apology.â
This stubbornness⦠If only she could let go of it a little.
âIâm curious about the reason.â
As I asked, Ania turned to me, tiny teardrops forming in her eyes.
âIf we talk, Iâll have expectations, and I know how foolish those expectations are, Edward.â
Ania grabbed my hand and pulled me closer.
I sat down beside her.
Her golden hair brushed against my body.
âHow can I believe she wonât leave again? She left me alone for twenty years. How can we now suddenly live like any other mother and daughter?â
âSheâs regretful of her actions.â
âIf she was going to regret it, she shouldnât have done it.â
âEveryone makes mistakes.â
âCan leaving your child behind be considered a mistake?â
Aniaâs pupils met mine.
âIf she loved me, she could have said so at least once.â
âButâ¦â
âEdward. What if I were to leave for a distant place? What would you do then?â
I replied promptly to Aniaâs question.
It was a question with no need for thought.
âIâd go after you.â
âAnd what about the business? The estate?â
âWhat does that matter?â
Ania chuckled and nodded her head.
âGood.â
âAh.â
It was only then that I realized.
Ania had neatly set the trap, and I fell right into it.
âIf you love someone, you can sacrifice anything.â
She was right.
For Aniaâs sake, I quit smoking, and if she were ever in danger, I had the resolve to sacrifice my life to protect her.
Likewise, Ania, unable to receive love from me, was willing to choose death, throwing herself out of the window.
Thatâs what love is.
We already knew that.
âMother doesnât love me. She merely gave birth to me, and now that her interest in the East has waned, she came to see me. Thatâs all.â
With nothing more to say, I simply looked up at the sky with Ania.
The slightly chilly breeze of the spring night passed by us.
Ania shivered.
âLetâs go inside now. Itâs late.â
âYeah.â
The night was deep.
I strolled slowly through the mansion after seeing Ania off to her room.
Sleep didnât come quickly.
In a few days, my week-long vacation would end.
I had intended to spend quality time with Ania, but now it seemed difficult to enjoy it.
More than that, I worried about what would happen if their relationship didnât improve within the week.
A parentâs love is essential.
Thereâs quite a difference between children who are loved and those who arenât.
Whether one grows up as a bright and dependent child or as an adult with perpetual anxiety hidden in oneâs heart.
Ania was undoubtedly the latter.
Her father, according to Ania, would listen to anything she said but demanded the attitude expected of a noblemanâs daughter,
While her mother, Viola, left Ania behind and went far away, abandoning her.
It couldnât be said that she was a child who received love and care.
Perhaps⦠her personality was because of her background.
With these thoughts in mind, I moved towards the room where Viola stayed and knocked on the door.
Since Ania had shut herself away, I figured the solution must be sought from her motherâs side.
âItâs Edward.â
However, there was no response despite my knocking.
Had she already left?
Despite this thought, I couldnât imagine the woman who had come all the way from the East to find her daughter leaving so easily, so I knocked on the door again.
Still, there was no answer.
It seemed she had really left.
But as soon as I slowly opened the door and stepped inside, I couldnât help but be startled.
âViola!â@@novelbin@@
It was because Viola collapsed in the middle of the room, next to the small bedside table.
I rushed over and shook her body.
Still, there was no response.
âLorendel!â
As I shouted, the mansion echoed, and before long, Lorendel and the still-awake servants rushed in.
They looked at the collapsed Viola and gasped.
âFetch the physician! Right away!â
I lifted Viola and rushed out of the mansion.
Waiting for the physician would take too long.
It would be faster to go to the physician myself.
While I was rushing, Aniaâs door opened.
Ania, who seemed unable to sleep, widened her eyes in surprise as she saw me carrying Viola.
âMother!â