I placed the book back and, out of the corner of my eye, noticed a toy in the corner of the bed.
Just as I was wondering about it, the door suddenly opened, and a little boy walked in. He stared at me with his round, bright eyes and cheerfully called out, "Brooks."
"Is this toy yours?" I asked him.
He nodded.
"Which family do you belong to? You can't just walk into this room."
"I'm part of this family."
"What's your name?"
"My name is Jeramiah."
Jeramiah. ...
I rushed madly to my father's study and began searching through his household registration book. The words "Jeramiah." and "Father and Son" stabbed at my eyes, making them sting.
Along with the registration book was a stock transfer document, hidden beneath it.
My father had transferred all of his company shares to this son's name.
I looked at it, unable to stop my hands from shaking, and angrily threw the papers in front of my father. He remained calm as ever.
"Well, you were bound to find out eventually. This is your little brother, he's ten years old this year. This is your Karlie," he said, pointing to the young caregiver beside him.
"So, when you were with Mary back then, you secretly had this child behind her back?" I asked, struggling to hold back my anger.
My father sighed. "Mary couldn't have children back then, but I needed a son. She didn't know, and I kept him outside all these years."
"Brooks, your mother's shares are for you, and mine will go to your brother. It's fair enough. You both share the Velez surname, and this family will depend on you two in the future."
I was stunned. Shock, anger, and resentment all mixed together.
I couldn't even accept the fact that I had just discovered the existence of this so-called brother.
My father played with the little boy, laughing as the child sweetly called him "Dad." My father was so happy, his laughter echoing in the room.
Years had passed, and yet, I remained an outsider.
I forced myself to make a call to Tate, asking him to look into that mother and son.
He was quick to act.
It turned out that the caregiver had originally been a hotel worker. Ten years ago, she got pregnant after becoming involved with my father.
At that time, my father found her unpresentable, and since he was still working closely with Mary Ayers at the company, she was the one handling many of the business affairs.
So, over the years, he kept her hidden away outside.
It wasn't until Mary Ayers passed away that he brought her back home.
But that home had long stopped belonging to me.
I cried for a long, long time, clutching my mother's gravestone.
The drizzle fell softly on the cold stone, and her smiling face in the photo grew increasingly blurry.
"Mom, I miss you so much. Please hold me."
"Brooks, let's go home."
Alden Everett was standing in front of me, holding an umbrella.
I held onto the gravestone, not willing to let go, and he quietly stood beside me, holding the umbrella.
"Growing up, many people envied me for having everything handed to me, for being able to get the best of everything. But they never knew how much I envied others. I longed for parents who truly loved each other, for a peaceful, happy home. From the moment I could remember, all I saw were their constant arguments. I tried so hard to earn his approval. When my teacher told me I had a gift for painting and I showed him my award-winning piece, he just dismissed it, saying, 'What's the point of painting? It won't lead to anything."
"He got together with his secretary, and she even sent provocative texts to my mom. When they fought, I cried so hard, but he found me annoying."
"Growing up, he never once complimented me, never came to any of my parent-teacher conferences, and he never even carried me."
I spoke quietly, and Alden stood by, silently listening.
He didn't react much. Instead, he spoke softly:
"I've never seen my father. My mother had a difficult childbirth, and my father was hit by a car on the way to the hospital. So, my mother has always hated me. She hated that I caused the death of her husband, hated that I injured her when I was born and that I was the reason she couldn't have more children. She hated that I was a burden, holding her back."
"I grew up at my uncle's house, always being looked down on, called the unwanted child. No one would play with me, so I just read books. I was very good at studying, and everyone said I was a genius. She didn't have any children of her own, so she came to get me, wanting me to earn money for her in the future."
"But what did I do wrong? Why doesn't anyone love me?"
I stared at Alden, tears streaming down my face. In the drizzle, his features looked even colder.
That line, "Why doesn't anyone love me?" echoed through the mountains.
Yes, he hadn't done anything wrong…
He let out a self-deprecating laugh. "I guess, when compared to you, I'm the one who had it worse?"
He slowly crouched down, tilting his head toward me.
"Come on, let me carry you."
He handed me the umbrella. I held it, resting my head on Alden's strong back.
"Alden, you should hate me…"
He chuckled lightly, not answering directly.
"I should hate you, but I just can't bring myself to."
"You're clearly not a vicious person, yet you insist on playing the villain. If you're going to play the villain, at least act the part. Don't worry about whether I can drink iced water with my stomach ache, or who's bullying me."
Alden's voice caught, trembling slightly.
"That was the first time someone protected me, when the light shone on me…"
"Even though I knew the moon didn't belong to me, I still foolishly wanted to possess it."
"Even if it was all in vain, at least I was happy."
Alden took steady steps down the mountain path, the wind and rain accompanying him. All the tangled bitterness slowly dispersed into the wild.
"Brooks, I never thought about taking your father, or your family, or your company. I only want you."
"Alden, I'm sorry…"
"Brooks, then stay by my side forever."
