If you don't love me, I will die. - Chapter 68

An uncomfortable and awkward silence ensued in the Radner Mansion’s grand reception room.

The protagonists were none other than myself, Ania, and Ania’s mother, Viola Brontë…

“I never imagined you’d be Ania’s mother.”
“I didn’t recognize you either, but I realized it after you left. It’s been a long time.”

Viola Brontë chuckled gracefully.

“I’ve aged too, you know. It’s different from when I was young, right?

They indeed resembled each other.
When I visited before, I only felt a sense of familiarity, but upon closer inspection, they undeniably resembled parent and child.

Especially where Ania’s beauty came from was clearly evident.

Despite being well into her forties, Viola appeared to have the face of a young woman who had just crossed thirty.

Moreover, she showed up promptly despite just receiving the letter, demonstrating her efficiency and strangely stubborn demeanor.

There wasn’t a single false word in the saying “like parent, like child.”

“More importantly, Ania.”

Viola Brontë withdrew her smiling face, rose from her seat, and approached Ania slowly.
Then, she gently brushed Ania’s cheek with the palm of her hand.

“You’ve grown so much.”
“……”

Ania remained silent and quietly removed Viola’s hand.

“Do you remember what I looked like when I was young as grounds to say that?”

Ania remained as cold as ever.
She turned her back as if she were about to burst into tears at any moment.

Watching Ania’s retreating figure, Viola continued to speak.

“Of course I do. I gave birth to you.”
“And then you abandoned me.”
“Ania!”

Without realizing it, I let out a loud voice and covered her mouth.

“It’s okay. It’s not an untrue statement.”

Viola smiled as she spoke, but the youthful smile on her lips was gradually fading.

“I’ll apologize. I’m sorry.”
“No, there’s no need to apologize. I wouldn’t accept it anyway.”
“Ania.”

Saying so, Ania abruptly stood up and left the room.

There was a thud as the door closed shut.
Watching her stride out confidently, it seemed she was quite angry.
Viola stared blankly at the firmly closed door, then chuckled as if embarrassed.

“This is… I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay.”

An awkward atmosphere lingered despite having spent quite some time together.

I spoke up.

“May I ask why you suddenly came to see Ania?”

She seemed surprised by the unexpected question and tilted her head.

“Because she’s my daughter.”
“Then… why haven’t you visited for so long?”
“Hmm…”

Viola slowly sat back in her chair. I also sat facing her.

“People make mistakes, you know. Who in the world is perfect? I made a mistake. I had Ania, but then I suddenly felt curious about the East. So, I left Ania behind and headed east. Just like that.”
“Knowing that Ania would be left alone?”
“I didn’t know.”

Viola lifted the corners of her mouth again. But there was deep sadness in her eyes.

“By the time the child turned twelve… there was a time when I returned to Brontë. It had only been seven years, but she had grown so much. So much so that I couldn’t recognize her.”

She stirred the tea on the table and continued speaking.

“When I visited Ania after seven years, she was a different child. The bright and lively little girl had become mature, so I felt relieved. Even without me, Ania was growing up well—growing up on her own. It was fortunate. But now, I realize maybe that wasn’t the best way. Perhaps she didn’t need to grow mature; she just needed to grow up like a child.”
“That’s probably true.”

It was a common trait among children who didn’t receive parental love.

Having no place to throw tantrums and having to do everything on their own, they naturally matured.

I was like that too.

Before coming to this world, my mother passed away from illness when I was young, and my father was always busy, hardly ever at home.

The living expenses came in regularly, but still, I had to endure it alone.

Amid the silence with nobody around, actors in family shows laughed, and I longed for scenes of harmonious family life similar to that.

So, in truth, knowing Viola was Ania’s mother made me a bit angry.

Why did she leave Ania alone?
What was the reason for leaving so irresponsibly?

But I couldn’t blame her.

“I don’t know if it’s too late to apologize now. Even though I may be a bad parent for leaving my child behind, I’ve never once not loved Ania.”

She said so with a sad smile.

What could I say?

“I’m sorry for coming without notice. I should probably start heading back now. It seems unlikely I’ll be forgiven.”
“No.”

I reached out and stopped Viola, who was getting up from her seat.

“Ania probably doesn’t hate you that much. Surely.”

I couldn’t just let them part like this.
I immediately called Lorendel.

“Lorendel. Book a reservation at the most expensive restaurant in the Capital right now.”
“The reservations might be backed up for a month.”
“Just book it. If you say my name, they’ll make an exception.”
“Yes.”

I hoped they could have a conversation.
I believe that unless one side is irredeemably awful, parents and children don’t hate each other.

Ania would be the same.
She doesn’t hate Viola; she probably hates that Viola left her and never returned.

After all, she’s the one who gave birth to her.
She’s the one who looks most like her.
She probably wouldn’t just hate her outright.

***

“Just a moment, where are we going?”
“Just get in for now. The Viscount insisted on seeing you off!”
“Wait, Lorendel!”

Without even knowing where she was being pushed by Lorendel, Ania stayed in the car for a while until they reached the Capital.

‘What is going on.’

Ania sighed softly as she looked out the window at the scenery of the capital passing by. She had a rough idea of what was being attempted, but she hadn’t wished for this.

Edward, who lost his mother at a young age, would try to somehow mend the relationship between his mother and himself.
But that wasn’t what she wanted.

Of course, Ania sometimes missed her mother’s presence.

Occasionally, when she saw children holding hands with their mothers and walking through the garden, she felt envious.
She wondered what it felt like to receive unconditional love… something she had never experienced even once.

Yet, she didn’t have the desire to forgive her mother, who had disregarded her for nearly twenty years.

Edward.
His love was enough.

“We have arrived.”

At the knight’s words, Ania slowly exited the car and followed the attendant.

It was the most famous and expensive restaurant in the Imperial Capital.
She had been here occasionally when meeting people from other families for business, so it wasn’t awkward for her.

“I will guide you this way.”

And as expected, when they arrived at the table guided by the waiter, Viola, who had arrived first, awkwardly waved at her.

Ania narrowed her eyes briefly, then sighed and sat down slowly across from her.

“Edward asked us to spend some time together.”

Viola hesitated before saying so.
Ania didn’t respond.

“He used to be such a clumsy child, but now he’s become such a splendid adult… Time flies so fast…”
“I never asked about that.”

Interrupting her, Ania spoke bluntly.

“Originally, Edward and I were supposed to go to the theater today… But because of you, we couldn’t go.”
“I’m sorry.”

Viola’s laughter faded from her lips.

“If you want to go now, you can. I’m sorry.”
“If you’re going to be like this now, why bother in the first place!”

Ania shouted, causing the attention of those nearby to focus on her.

She glanced around and slowly sat back down.

“Why… come now? Without even sending a simple letter.”

Looking at her daughter, who spoke angrily, Viola had nothing to say.

She didn’t ask about her well-being, but she knew how she had grown up since childhood.
She had pictures of Ania ever since she was one.
She knew about the gossip in society about Edward’s marriage and divorce.

It would all sound like excuses, even if she said she knew everything.

“I never once forgot about you.”
“But I did.”

As the atmosphere grew cold, the trolley entered, placing the dishes individually.

“This is the lamb confit with sautéed asparagus garnish. Enjoy your meal.”

After a few minutes of tense silence, Ania grabbed her spoon and began to eat her cold food.

As if someone was following her, she quickly finished her meal and wiped her mouth before getting up.

“Ania.”

Viola looked at her daughter with concern.

“I want to talk.”
“I don’t want to. What’s the point of talking with someone who will leave again anyway?”
“I won’t leave.”
“How can I trust you?”

With that, Ania walked briskly out of the restaurant’s main entrance.

With dismayed eyes, Viola could only gaze at the door, still shaking slightly from how forcefully it had been opened.