Chapter 129

"I thought you loved me. I guess I was wrong." "Who said someone with a family couldn't be with me?" "The actor from earlier today." "Aaron? You overheard my phone call?" "Yeah, you didn't hang up. I heard him talking to you...I'm sorry." "I've only worked with him; it really doesn't mean anything. I don't like him, and we have no relationship. He calls me Tina, which is the name of my character in the movie...None of that matters. I don't like him, and I never will." "I should have asked you directly, instead of eavesdropping on your phone call. But to be honest, I don't have the right to ask you these things, and I didn't want you to know I did something like that." "You asked the wrong way. It would've been better if you had just asked me directly." "Yeah, I apologize." -- "I thought you said it wasn't the right time for her to meet your family." Eric's words snapped Van out of his thoughts. Van paused, his steps coming to a halt. In a low voice, he replied, "She doesn't love me." Eric was stunned for a moment but quickly understood what Van meant. The burden of family responsibility in the Marlowe family had always been heavy. Van had been careful to shield Winnie from its weight. But now, it seemed, he no longer felt the need to keep those walls up. "Relax," Eric said in a comforting tone, "Miss Loxley actually loves you." Van gave a faint smile. "She rejected me." He paused for a moment, his voice dropping to a murmur, "She doesn't need me." The turmoil and entanglement of these emotions still clung to Van's heart, refusing to dissipate. Even now, he subjected himself to a kind of cruel self-reflection, replaying each moment and dissecting every word. "She looked terrified," Van said, turning his face slightly toward Eric, a trace of irony appearing at his lips. "Absolutely petrified. She said all she could handle was a casual, surface-level affection and begged me not to really fall for her." Eric felt a sharp pang in his chest. He and his wife were childless by choice, and for thirty-six years, he had regarded Van as a son. "Eric, maybe I should just give up." He lowered his gaze and said quietly, "A year from now, I'll find someone for an arranged marriage." "Van," Eric started to speak but hesitated. Van let out a short laugh. "Do you have a cigarette? Give me one." Under the raven-gray night sky, his figure looked gaunt. The moonlight was dim tonight, veiled by wisps of cloud carried by the heavy, damp air. Van held the cigarette between his fingers so tightly it was on the verge of being crushed. Finally, he lowered his face, shook his head with a smile, and brought the cigarette to his lips. "What are you thinking about?" Eric asked. "I'm thinking that, for someone who loves money so much, she can't seem to love me along with it. Guess I'm really not worth much." "You know that's not true," Eric said firmly. "There are plenty of people who want to marry you, but fate can't be forced. You and her still have a year. Who knows what might happen?" "When she rejected me, I should have proposed terminating the contract," Van said calmly. "But I couldn't bring myself to do it." "Then keep her." "You know I'm not the kind of person who forces others. I felt she might love me—a little. Maybe there was more fear or admiration than affection, but there was at least some fondness." Van flicked the ash off his cigarette. "Honestly, as an heir, wanting to marry someone I truly love is a bit selfish and willful. My father doesn't say much because he has no right to. My parents are genuinely in love. But you know how rare that kind of marriage is in our world. I gave myself sixteen years. It's time." "How is it rare? You brother and Terry are in a same-sex relationship, and your parents didn't separate them. Then your sister and her boyfriend..." Eric trailed off, racking his brain for convincing examples. "They are who they are. The eldest son is the eldest son. What I inherit and the responsibilities I carry must be balanced. I can't have everything. Besides, being an heir is not easy; is being the heir's wife any easier? Honestly, Eric, when I think about which woman might marry me in the future, I can't help but feel sorry for her." "You and Miss Loxley haven't even reached that point yet. You don't need to think so far ahead. You can have a pure, simple relationship, Van. Why are you always planning for storms before they come?" Van nodded. "Today, I asked her a question: after I get married someday, would she be willing to be my lover?" "That doesn't sound like you." "You know, even if 99% of it was just to test her, the remaining 1% was real. I know myself. I've genuinely entertained that selfish thought—keeping her out of the marriage, having children, and spending billions a year to support her. It wouldn't matter. I can afford it. I'd give her whatever she wanted. It would be far more comfortable and free than being forced to smile gracefully and act dignified on a pedestal." Eric took a deep breath, shocked that Van could even entertain such an idea. "The Marlowe family doesn't have that kind of tradition. For generations, we've never had it," he emphasized. Keeping a mistress and fathering illegitimate children is the seed—or the sign—of a great family's decline. Harmony in the household brings prosperity. Loyalty to marriage and family is a principle etched into the Marlowe family's bones and passed down as a straightforward yet sacred ancestral rule. "I know," Van said quietly. "I just had a fleeting, despicable moment of thinking about it. Eric, thinking isn't a crime. If I spend 24 hours a day acting like a perfect gentleman, can't I reward myself with one second of wandering thoughts? But that's as far as it'll go." Van stubbed out his cigarette. "Thanks for listening, Eric." "Where are you going?" Eric called after him. Van's figure was already disappearing into the night, blending with the shadows. He didn't turn back, only raised two fingers in a casual wave. "To row a boat."