Chapter 263: Chapter 263
Alina smiled faintly at the sweet sight before quietly stepping inside. The gentle chime of the bell above the door rang as she entered, drawing a few glances. She looked around, scanning for Aaron....
Then she spotted him sitting at a corner table near the window. The fading sunlight framed his tall figure, and he looked every bit the same as she remembered from years ago: sharp features, calm eyes, and that confident slouch in his shoulders. He was sipping from a glass of iced coffee, his jacket draped over the chair.
Alina hesitated for a moment, smoothing her hair and adjusting her bag nervously before walking toward him. Her heart was beating fast, partly from the odd romantic setting, partly from the anxiety of what he might have found.
Aaron looked up as she approached, a flicker of warmth lighting his eyes. He smiled faintly, raising his glass in greeting. "Hey, Lina. You haven’t changed a bit."
Alina smiled back, though her voice trembled just a little. "You, on the other hand, look like you walked straight out of a detective drama."
He chuckled softly and motioned for her to sit. "Then it fits the situation perfectly, doesn’t it?"
Her smile faded slightly as she sat down, her palms brushing nervously against her lap. "You said you found something?" she asked quietly.
Aaron’s eyes softened, but there was hesitation in them, as if he did not want to say what he had seen. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Yeah, I did. And you might want to brace yourself before I show you."
Aaron quietly slid the folder across the table. The soft thud of the file against the polished wood made Alina’s heart skip. She hesitated for a moment, her fingers trembling slightly before she finally opened it.
Inside were several printed photographs and a few stapled sheets: time-stamped reports, screenshots, and stills from security footage. The first few pages looked ordinary, but then her gaze froze.
Her breath caught. Her aunt’s best friend, the woman who had stood beside Aunt Lyla through every hardship, who often came by the house with food and laughter, was in every photo. And next to her was Uncle Luther.
Alina’s lips parted, disbelief flooding her face as she flipped through the images. In one, they were leaving a hotel together. In another, sitting close at a restaurant, smiling as if they belonged to each other. And the final photo, a selfie. Her uncle’s arm around Gina, both of them grinning under the city lights.
Her hand flew to her mouth, eyes widening as tears gathered and blurred the paper. "Oh my God..." she whispered. "It’s her... Gina?"
Aaron’s expression softened, guilt flashing across his face. "I’m sorry, Lina. I didn’t want it to be true either, but there’s no mistake."
She kept staring at the photos, the words on the report swimming before her eyes—multiple sightings, affectionate gestures, repeated meetings. Her chest tightened, a sharp ache spreading through her ribs.
Her aunt’s laughter, her trust, her exhausted words from earlier—’I don’t know what to do anymore...’—echoed painfully in her mind.
A soft sound escaped her, half sob, half breath. "How could he," she whispered, her voice trembling. "How could he do this to her? To our family?"
Before she could say anything more, Aaron was already moving. He got up quickly and came around the table, crouching beside her. "Hey, it’s okay," he said gently, resting his hand on her shoulder.
Alina tried to cover her face, but the tears would not stop. Her shoulders shook as she struggled to keep quiet, afraid of drawing attention in the romantic café, but her pain was raw, spilling over.
Without thinking, Aaron wrapped his arms around her in a protective, grounding gesture. "I’m here," he murmured softly. "I know it hurts, but you did the right thing finding out. Your aunt deserves the truth."
Alina did not even realize she was clinging to him until a tear rolled onto his shirt. She stayed still for a long moment, trying to breathe, trying to stop her shaking.
All she could think about was how kind her aunt had been, how unfair life had turned on her again. And now this betrayal by someone she trusted most.
Her fingers tightened unconsciously against Aaron’s sleeve as she whispered through trembling lips, "I’ll never forgive him for this."
After thanking Aaron sincerely, Alina hugged him again, a brief, wordless gesture filled with gratitude and heaviness. Then she left the café, clutching the folder tightly against her chest. The streets felt colder and quieter, and though the evening breeze brushed gently across her face, she could still feel the sting of tears on her cheeks.
She took a cab straight to the hospital. Her heart ached with each turn of the wheels, but she kept telling herself one thing: it was better to face pain now than to bear it later. Aunt Lyla deserved the truth, no matter how cruel it was.
When Alina reached her mother’s ward, she paused at the doorway. Through the glass, she saw her aunt sitting quietly beside her mother’s bed, just like always. Whenever there was a spare moment from her shifts, Aunt Lyla would come here, brushing her sister’s hair, adjusting the blanket, whispering words of comfort that only family could understand. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ 𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹✶𝗳𝗶𝗿𝗲✶𝗻𝗲𝘁
"Aunty," Alina called softly, stepping inside.
Lyla looked up, a bit surprised, then smiled warmly. "What’s wrong, Lina?" she asked gently. Then her expression softened further, her eyes lighting up as she touched the scarf around her neck. "Oh, I love the scarf you brought for me! It’s so silky, and this pink color looks so good on me, doesn’t it?"
She gave a little laugh, the sound light and sincere, like a woman trying to savor the smallest joys in life despite her exhaustion. The gift clearly meant more to her than Alina had imagined, perhaps because no one had given her something just for her in a very long time.
Alina’s throat tightened as she looked at her. That smile, that simple happiness, broke her heart even more. She forced a small smile back, though her eyes shimmered with emotion.
"I’m glad you liked it, Auntie," she said softly, sitting down beside her. Her voice trembled ever so slightly.
If only she could let her aunt hold on to that smile a little longer. But she knew, after what she had learned, that pretending any more would only make the pain worse later.
Alina froze for a moment when her aunt’s soft voice broke through her thoughts.
"What’s wrong with you, dear? You look troubled?" Aunt Lyla asked gently, worry threading through her tone. Her eyes lingered on Alina’s face, that same face she had watched grow from a rosy-cheeked little girl into the young woman standing before her.
Even after all these years, she still saw her as the small, chubby-cheeked Lina who used to toddle around the house in frilly pink dresses and flower-printed socks. Lyla’s heart clenched with guilt as the memory washed over her.
How could I ever have doubted her? she thought. Lina had always been a good girl, gentle, obedient, endlessly soft-spoken.
Never once did she answer back, even when life was unkind.
She remembered when Lina was just a little girl with round cheeks and wide eyes that sparkled with innocence. She used to wear that pink dress with the little bow on the back—her favorite. The memory brought a faint smile to Lyla’s face.
She used to waddle around the house, calling me "Aunty Ly," and when she laughed, the whole world felt bright. Lyla could almost hear that sound again, the bubbling giggle that filled their home like sunshine.
Back then, she used to steal Lina away from her sister’s house whenever she could. She would plop her onto her old scooter and ride down the narrow street, the wind tangling in Lina’s soft hair while she squealed in delight. "Faster, Aunty Ly! Faster!" the little girl would shout, clutching her waist.
Afterward, they would stop by the corner stall for sugar candies, the ones shaped like tiny animals, and Lina would always pick the pink rabbit. Lyla used to record those moments, saving every second of her laughter on her old phone. To be honest, she thought with a bittersweet pang, Lina always felt like my first child. My little piece of sunshine before I even became a mother.
Her gaze softened as she watched Alina now, grown, beautiful, and yet burdened. What did I do wrong? Lyla’s heart whispered. How did life become so heavy for both of us? Why do bad days exist at all?
She blinked, forcing a small smile, unwilling to let her emotions show. Not now, she told herself, not in front of her. But deep inside, her heart felt heavy with memories—warm, soft, and aching all at once.
Alina stood frozen beside her aunt. Her chest ached with a panic she could not hide, and her fingers fidgeted with the edge of her sleeve as she tried to think of the right words.
How could she tell her? How could she break her aunt’s fragile heart with the truth that the man she loved, trusted, and built a life with was betraying her with her own best friend?
Every time Alina looked at Aunt Lyla’s tired but gentle face, she felt her throat close. Her aunt had already endured so much, sleepless nights from hospital shifts, the loneliness of raising her son while her husband was always away, and now this?