Chapter 1140: Chapter 1140: Ti_1
Purple Sumrs went upstairs to her room and didn’t see Alexander Sumrs; she thought for a mont, then turned around and headed for the study.
The study was dimly lit, filled with a faint haze of smoke.
Alexander Sumrs sat in the leather chair, a cigarette pinched between two fingers, lips tightly sealed, his entire deanor grave and dejected.
When he saw Purple enter, he snuffed out the cigarette in his hand, then opened the window to let in fresh air, diluting the smoky scent in the room.
“How is mom?” he asked.
Purple walked up to him, “She’s fine now, Aunt Taylor said the osmanthus flowers in the garden are blooming beautifully, so mom went with Aunt Taylor to pick osmanthus. She wants to make osmanthus candy, and she seems to be in a good mood.”
Hearing this, Alexander didn’t speak, just silently stared out the window.
Outside the window was a lush green lawn lined by neatly trimd hedges against the towering courtyard walls; beyond the walls was a road, followed by a forest, and beyond that, shimring lake waters.
Alexander’s gaze lost itself in the shimring expanse.
Purple grasped his arm, gently leaning on him.
Neither of them said a word.
After a while, Purple broke the silence, “Do you know what mom’s favorite color is?”
Alexander looked down at her, puzzled by the question.
Purple said, “Just now, I suddenly realized that mom always rembers what dishes I like to eat, what clothes I like to wear, but I know nothing about her…”
She looked up at Alexander and smiled faintly, “It’s very unfilial, isn’t it?”
Alexander’s eyes deepened, “Purple, what are you trying to say?”
Purple lowered her head, exhaling softly, “Nothing… just that there are so things that children can never give.”
“What children can’t give… neither can Clyde Sumrs possibly give!” Alexander suddenly erupted in anger.
He didn’t want to lash out at Purple, he took a deep breath, but the searing pain in his chest made his rationality shatter!
Alexander slamd his fist into the cold, hard windowsill!
The sound was muffled, veins bulging on the back of his hand.
Purple’s heart ached; she reached out to grasp his fist, “Don’t do this…”
His breathing was rough, his body slightly trembling, “It could be anyone… but not him, it must never be him!”
Purple held his hand in silence; she was an outsider, perhaps she could let it go, but Alexander couldn’t.
Clyde was his brother, Atra Blanc was his mother, his brother… and his mother! Between them wasn’t just a shaful relationship, but also deception and seduction that could not be ignored!
Atra Blanc was deceived by Clyde! It was not of her own volition!
Even if she now has feelings for Clyde, who knows if her love is for Clyde himself, or simply for the identity he represents as a husband?
Just like Old Master Sumrs in the past, what kind of power did he have to make Atra Blanc love him for so many years?
Was it really love? Or… just a habit? A shackle?
The idea of staying true from beginning to end was deeply rooted, Atra Blanc never dared to think otherwise; who she truly loved might only be revealed once her sealed mories were unlocked.
Purple gently embraced Alexander.
“Give mom so ti,” Purple murmured softly, “and give yourself so ti too… Alexander, we all need ti…”
All unsolvable problems are left to ti.
…
That night, Purple had a strange dream.
She dread that Atra Blanc had aged.
It was as if she withered in an instant, wrinkles climbing over her face, her eyeballs turning cloudy, her hair snow-white. The delicate figure of her youth beca gaunt and stooped, and then she closed her eyes, passing away peacefully.
Purple was greatly shocked, but the dream did not end because she herself was also aging.
Ti rushed by, carrying everyone toward the end of their lives; her loved ones and friends died one by one, Tiny died, Cleo died, Alexander also died, as if she were the only one left in the world, utterly alone.
She had beco an old, old woman, an extra gift from ti that allowed her to live to the end but also tortured her to the end, enduring pain from partings over and over again, and enduring the tornt of loneliness.
Purple woke up from the dream, her face wet with tears.
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