[FLASHBACK]
"You’re out of your mind."
"Just what else do you need — are you this bored?"
"Who is she to you, huh? Just why the hell do you ddle in other people’s business? Since when have you ddled in other people’s affairs? You don’t even ddle in this damn family’s affairs, but you’d go so far as to ddle with others!"
"What a madman. Zoren Pierson, I’m still debating whether I’m amused or disappointed. But alas... I’m already involved. What tough luck."
These were just a few among the thousands of comnts Zoren could rember from the people around him. Dean, Finn, Benjamin, Mark... and everyone who knew of Zoren’s involvent with a criminal on death row. Those who knew that he had even married a dead person offered tons of different criticisms.
But he knew what made them angriest was his lack of reaction to all of them.
Even if they cursed him or spit in front of him, he wouldn’t react. It made others think he was ignoring them. The funny thing, though, was how they thought he could ignore all of these comnts when everyone around him was saying the sa thing.
He was a madman.
Was he... really?
Zoren slowly walked along the pathway to the Old Pierson Residence, stopping in his tracks. He slowly gazed up at the entrance of the residence. Small, warm lights mounted on the side of the front door lit up the entrance. Shoving his hands inside his coat, fog ford in front of his mouth as he breathed out.
He was about to take a step forward when he noticed the white flakes falling. Looking up, he blinked ever so slowly. Winter had finally fallen. Opening his hand, white snowflakes landed on his gloves, which slowly lted.
"Young Master...?" Suddenly, Zoren heard Butler Hubert’s voice. He stood by the entrance, looking at Zoren with worry. His eyes spoke countless unspoken words, but he kept his mouth pressed into a thin line.
*
*
*
"How is she?" Zoren sat down beside the bed, his eyes on the old woman lying in it.
Butler Hubert paused as he carefully placed the cup of hot tea to warm up Zoren. "She’s doing fine, Young Master. Although so days... she wakes up confused."
"I see." That ant Old Mrs. Pierson wasn’t getting better. "Butler Hu, can you leave alone with her for a while? I want so ti alone with her."
"Yes, Young Master."
Having said that, Butler Hubert quietly walked out of the bedroom. But before closing the door, he peeked through the gap. His eyes fell on Zoren’s broad back as the latter sat in the chair. A deep breath escaped the butler’s nostrils before he closed the door carefully.
Silence quickly fell in the room the mont Butler Hubert left. Zoren remained quiet, not bothering with the cup of tea the butler had served him to keep him warm. It wouldn’t make a difference. Not long after, Old Mrs. Pierson’s eyes flickered beneath her eyelids.
Slowly, she let out a short hum as her eyes cracked open. She looked around briefly, smiling when she caught sight of her handso grandson seated beside her.
"Renren..." Her voice was weak, and she lifted her hand weakly, which he quickly took. "... you’re here, hmm?"
Zoren sported a short smile. "I am here, Grandma."
Old Mrs. Pierson didn’t answer but instead tried to sit up. With his assistance, she was able to recline comfortably. When her eyes fell on her grandson, they softened as she smiled.
"You brat! How co you only visit when it’s convenient for you?" she complained, huffing. "So unfilial! Just because I brought up marriage — do you hate marriage that much? How are you going to live without soone by your side, huh? Renren, no matter how capable you are—"
"I am married."
Old Mrs. Pierson abruptly halted, her eyes widening. "Renren, what did you say?"
"I am married, Grandma," he whispered, watching her sour expression turn into a bright one.
"You’re married? Where is she?" Old Mrs. Pierson quickly searched the room. When she didn’t find anyone, her eyes fell on her grandson again. She tugged his hand excitedly. "Renren, where is your wife? Why didn’t you bring her here? Didn’t she want to co because she thinks grandma is sick? I’m not sick."
"..."
"Renren." Old Mrs. Pierson tugged his hand again. "Are you really married? Or are you just saying that so I’ll die?"
Zoren slowly lifted his eyes to hers. "Mhm. I am married."
"Really? What is she like? Your wife — is she pretty?"
Zoren didn’t answer imdiately, recalling what his wife looked like. The first ti he t her was when she was dead, after all.
"Mhm," he humd. "She’s... beautiful. Very beautiful."
Old Mrs. Pierson grinned from ear to ear. "I knew it! She must be beautiful for you to marry her — hah! Invite her here. You should call her and tell her that Grandma will cook for her. Renren, this is a one-in-a-lifeti opportunity. You better not make her sad!"
Old Mrs. Pierson rambled on and on, telling her grandson not to disappoint his wife and to do things correctly. It took her a mont to notice just how silent he was and the emptiness in his eyes. She stopped, her forehead wrinkling.
"Renren..." she whispered, squeezing his hand gently. "What is wrong, my son? Is soone picking on you again? Who made you sad? Is soone giving you a hard ti?"
Zoren kept his lips pressed into a thin line. "This is the fourth ti... I’ve told you I’m married, Grandma."
"Huh?" Old Mrs. Pierson looked confused but didn’t ask any more questions when she saw the bitterness on his face. Her excited smile slowly faded, replaced by a weak one. "Is... that so?"
Old Mrs. Pierson leaned back and relaxed her body, looking up with a sigh. When she turned her head to Zoren, she squeezed his hand gently.
"Is... grandma’s health too much to bear?" she asked, and he shook his head. "But I do make you sad, don’t I?"
"Yes."
"Do not be sad," she said. "Have I t your wife?"
"... yes," he lied, his voice quiet. "And you liked her. She likes you too."
"Is that so...? She must be a wonderful person."
"She... is." He nodded. "A beautiful person... and a sad one."
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