He too had wanted to get married. Having seen the affection his brother and sister-in-law shared every day, he had longed for marriage. But after years of striving, when he finally achieved his current success, the woman he had hoped to marry had already wed soone else, becoming his elder sister-in-law.
It seed like fate was playing tricks on him, and he guessed he might never marry in this lifeti. After all, there was only one Julia Bluen. Even if there were two Julia Bluens, he would love only the one he knew now; he would not seek a substitute unless he truly moved on. Otherwise, he was destined to grow old alone.
Jas Horne's reaction, however, left Gian Horne dumbfounded. He didn't understand why the ntion of marriage evoked such an icy response from Jas, as if Jas despised the idea. Thinking of how Jas was soon to turn twenty-nine and had never been gentle with any woman, Gian Horne couldn't help but feel a pang of worry. Could his youngest son be abnormal?
Glades Horne had married late, but he had long been in a romantic relationship with the elder Bluen sister. The more he thought, the more Gian Horne worried, feeling that Pheobe Rogers was right to arrange a matchmaking banquet for Jas.
Jas Horne, unaware of his father's thoughts and uninterested in guessing them, got into his red Audi, drove away from the Horne family villa, and headed towards the Coastal District.
When he reached the Coastal District, it was only around seven-forty in the evening. Because it was winter, even though it was just past seven, it already seed quite late.
After parking his car in the lot in front of his mother's apartnt, Jas Horne took out his keys and unlocked the door.
Pheobe Rogers was sitting on the sofa in the living room, idly watching television.
She had called Gian Horne several tis, asking him to keep her company, but he always said he was busy, which infuriated her. She didn't know what she had done wrong to make Gian ignore her these past few days. Not only would he refuse to keep her company, but he was also evasive and secretive whenever she called.
On the coffee table in front of her were scattered photographs, all of won. These were photos she had asked Gian to help her obtain, all of young ladies from Upper Class Society. She wanted to pick one out for Jas.
Her rival had a daughter-in-law, and she wanted one too. That way, she wouldn't lose when they argued.
Suddenly, she heard the door open. Thinking it was Gian, she deliberately put on a sullen face, pursing her lips as if she intended to ignore whoever ca in.
After Jas Horne entered, he didn't speak, walking straight to another sofa and sitting down.
Realizing it wasn't Gian, Pheobe Rogers turned her head. Seeing her precious son, her attitude instantly did a complete one-eighty. She smiled, sat down next to Jas, and said cheerfully, "Jas, my dear..."
"Mom, call Jas."
Before Pheobe Rogers could finish saying, "Jas, my dear," Jas Horne cut her off coldly.
The smile on her face froze for ten seconds. Still, Pheobe Rogers deferred to her son's wish and stopped calling him "Jas, my dear." He's so grown up now, she thought, he probably finds that nickna awkward.
"Have you eaten? If not, Mom will cook for you. Is work going smoothly? Are you tired? Would you like Mom to give you a massage?" As soon as Pheobe Rogers opened her mouth, a stream of concerned questions poured out.
Glancing at Pheobe Rogers, Jas Horne replied indifferently, "I ate at ho."
"Why do you always go back there for als? Ho? Would that place be your ho if your father wasn't there? You've lived there for over twenty years; you know best in your heart whether you truly consider that place your ho. Jas, can you co here every day and keep Mom company? Mom will cook delicious food for you every day. This place can give you warmth; this is your real ho." Pheobe Rogers couldn't stand Jas considering the Horne family mansion his ho.
It was as if Jas was no longer her son.
When she had agreed to send Jas to the Horne family, it was because she wanted him to win over the old lady's heart, hoping the old lady would relent and let her move into the Horne estate as well. Even if she couldn't marry Gian, she would have been content just to be with him every day, even if it ant sharing a husband with Mila Anderson. But while the old lady doted on Jas, she doted on Glades even more. Twenty-so years had passed, and despite all her and Jas's efforts, she remained an outsider, never truly stepping into that grand mansion, a symbol of wealth and status.
Her greatest worry and fear were that her son would side with that other family.
Jas Horne didn't answer.
Seeing her son remain silent, Pheobe Rogers took a deep breath, struggling not to lose her temper. He so rarely visited; she couldn't afford to anger him and drive him away.
"By the way, what has your father been up to lately? What's keeping him so busy? Is it that he's old but his lecherous desires haven't faded, so he's out fooling around again?" Pheobe Rogers shifted the topic to Gian Horne.
"If Mom doesn't trust Dad, why stay together?" Jas Horne said coldly, his words laced with heavy sarcasm.
Perhaps it was because he had seen the implicit trust between his brother and sister-in-law these past two months that his mother's suspicions now struck him as particularly repulsive. Mila Anderson was the rightful wife and hadn't even called Gian to account; what position did his own mother hold to question him? Didn't she understand her place?
"What did you say?" Pheobe Rogers trembled, staring at Jas Horne in disbelief. Her precious son, the apple of her eye, more important to her than her own life, was telling her to leave Gian!
She had been with Gian Horne for thirty years. Besides this apartnt, all she had gained was a son; there wasn't much else. Gian gave her a considerable sum for living expenses each month, but she had developed a habit of splurging. She often overspent and had to dip into the savings she had scraped together from Gian in her younger years. Over ti, her savings, once in the tens of millions, had dwindled to re millions.
Now she was old and faded, a re mistress. If she left Gian, how would she survive? Who would marry her? If she didn't marry, with no source of inco, what would she eat or use? How could she afford any luxuries?
"Mom, I'm leaving." Jas Horne suddenly stood up, unwilling to stay any longer.
"Don't go yet! Tell , has your father found a new woman? Is that why he won't co to see anymore? That damn bastard! Didn't he swear he'd love for life? How dare he betray at his age..."
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