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Chapter 52 - 52- Cynthia, you hesitated!
One day, Marc brought him to stand in front of her. She timidly looked up at him, and his face was filled with a radiant smile. She knew he was the boy who used to play with her back home, but because he was so close to Grace Lancaster and Doreen Lancaster, she felt a sense of rejection toward him.
Her small body shrank back, but he, only ten years old at the time, stubbornly reached out and gently placed his hand on her shoulder. His voice was warm and melodic, like a beautiful song, and even now, when she thought about it, she could still feel a warmth spreading in her heart.
He said, "Cynthia, let me take care of you from now on." Then he smiled and reached out his hand to her. With guarded eyes, she hesitated, her small hand trembling behind her back. After a long moment, she finally stretched it out, placing it in his palm, entrusting him with her happiness.
And he never let her down. He gave her endless warmth and sunlight. She gradually emerged from the pain of losing her mother and began to see the world as a more beautiful place.
But after all, he was the second son of the Danny family, and it seemed improper for him to be constantly visiting the orphanage to see a little girl. Karl began to impose restrictions on him, and their meetings became fewer and fewer. Without him, she felt no joy in anything.
One day, it seemed like he secretly ran away, urgently taking her hand and saying, "Cynthia, I'll have Uncle Lancaster bring you back. Wait for me!"
A few days later, William S. Lancaster arrived with Maureen Lancaster to take her back. Of course, what greeted her were the resentful looks of Grace Lancaster and Doreen Lancaster. But by then, she no longer cared about them. She had her Vince brother, the one who gave her warmth and protection with his broad, caring arms.
And so, the years passed. He stayed with her through the ten years from age eight to eighteen, guiding her as she grew from a young girl into a graceful woman. And then... came that snow-filled night when everything fell apart.
Those ten years, she no longer wished to remember. If they had ended up together, those memories would have been sweet as candy. But now, with how things turned out, recalling them only brought bone-deep pain. She often wished there were a medicine in the world called forgetfulness.
The so-called "back hill" wasn't really a mountain, just a small hill behind the orphanage that was raised a little above the ground. It was something she and Vincent had referred to as the "back hill."
Vincent was already waiting there, his tall frame leaning against a thick tree, much like how he had waited for her countless times before, gently smiling. At that moment, he was resting with his eyes closed, head tilted back, quietly leaning there. The sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves and cast a mottled pattern across his weary face.
As she walked toward him again, there was now an ocean of distance between them. Her steps felt heavy, as though they were weighed down with lead. The twist in her ankle made it even harder to walk. The short distance felt like an exhausting trek, leaving her drained.
Noticing her approach, Vincent opened his eyes and quickly hid the fatigue on his face, trying his best to appear refreshed and calm.
"Cynthia, you're here!"
She didn't speak, just quietly took the colorful candies that had been hanging from her back and handed them to him with a soft voice.
"When I was sad before, you used to cheer me up with these. You said that after eating them, no matter how bitter things were, everything would become sweet!"
The brightly colored round candies shimmered under the glaring sunlight, casting dazzling rays that hurt Vincent's eyes, starkly reminding him of the sweet love they once shared, just like these candies.
He didn't take the candies, but instead suddenly covered his face and began sobbing quietly. The twenty-five-year-old man crouched there in the thick greenery, like a helpless child, crying uncontrollably. It was clear that he had been criticized thoroughly by the entire Danny family due to the divorce.
She stood there, feeling at a loss. In her memories, this man had always been the one to stand behind her, providing warmth and protection. Now, seeing him break down like this, she didn't know how to comfort him. All her words seemed so inadequate.
To cry so freely must mean he had been bearing too much pain and sorrow. They always say that a man doesn't shed tears easily—only when the pain becomes unbearable.
After a long time, Vincent wiped away his tears, stood up, and suddenly pulled her into his embrace. He held her tightly, desperately, as if trying to press her into his body, as if by doing so, he could finally have her.
He ran his fingers through her cascading black hair, his voice full of bitterness.
"Cynthia, I really regret bringing you back to the Lancaster family! If you hadn't come back to Lancaster, that day you wouldn't have stormed into the family's living room, wouldn't have caught the eye of that man, wouldn't have become his wife. You would still be my little princess!"
Cynthia didn't reject his embrace. She quietly let him hold her, allowing this hug to be the final farewell. She gently spoke,
"Vince, maybe this is fate. We could stubbornly resist the Danny family and the Lancaster family, but no matter how hard we try, we can never fight against the arrangements of destiny."
If Karl's plot hadn't been exposed, if Grace Lancaster's obsession hadn't existed, if that man hadn't appeared in the Lancaster family... If everything could be restarted, how wonderful that would be...
But unfortunately, everything has changed, and things will never be the same.
She lightly struggled, trying to push him away, and he immediately released her. He had always been like this, always considering her feelings first, never wanting her to feel even the slightest sadness—unlike that man, who only let her go when she was hurting so much that she couldn't bear it anymore.
She and that man were like two hard stones, every interaction between them clashing brutally without mercy. They wouldn't stop until one of them was broken, like last night, when he insisted on waiting until he had forced her to tears before reluctantly saying those three words.
"Cynthia? Cynthia—"
Vincent's concerned voice brought her back to the present. She quickly snapped out of her thoughts, realizing she had unknowingly been thinking about that man.
A flush of embarrassment spread across her face as she glanced at Vincent's weary expression and quickly looked away.
"Vince, I came here today because I want to tell you... what's in the past is in the past. The most important thing is to cherish the happiness we have right now. My second sister..."
She paused, trying to suppress the bitterness in her voice.
"My second sister has always loved you deeply, and why should you continue to torment yourself like this?"
Her entanglement with that man had already been too much. She no longer deserved her Vince.
Vincent looked at her, heartbroken, and asked,
"Cynthia, if that man treated you well, cherished you, loved you, and pampered you... would you accept him? And then slowly fall in love with him?"
For some reason, her mind suddenly flashed with his cold, indifferent face. He was selfish, overbearing, ruthless, and cruel. A man like that, how could she ever fall in love with him? He could never be like Vincent had described, treating her kindly. So, she shook her head and replied indifferently,
"No."
"Cynthia, you hesitated!"
Vincent bitterly curled his lips in a self-deprecating smile.
"If you asked me, I would answer without hesitation: No."
She fell silent. For a brief moment, she had hesitated. She couldn't answer as decisively as Vincent had. But why? What was wrong with her?
Seeing her silent, Vincent's handsome face was filled with deep melancholy.
"Cynthia, I'll live well with Grace Lancaster, for the sake of the child, but I'll never love her."
Her body trembled slightly at his words. He glanced at her, his gaze filled with profound affection.
"Because the only person I love in my heart is you. Your name is Cynthia."
After saying this, he turned and walked down the hill without looking back. Cynthia, still standing there, didn't see the pale expression on his face, nor did she notice his clenched fists. How could she know the depth of his unwillingness?
Cynthia , if seeing me happy makes you feel better, then I will strive to be happy for you to see. But there will never be anyone else I can love so deeply and wholeheartedly again.
And likewise, if you're well, then... I will be happy.
