Chapter 3 The One Person I Should Stay Away From

[Florian]'s POV

“I will never treat Florian as my family.” Torin’s voice stopped by my ear.

I stood at the end of the garage and did not go over to question him. That would only make him think I cared about his approval. So I hitched my bag strap higher on my shoulder, turned around, and went back to the main house.

After that day, my mother and I officially moved into the estate.

Torin put me in a room on the west side. He stayed on the east side himself, with an entire corridor between us. The arrangement plainly meant he wanted me out of sight and out of mind.

In the past few days since moving in, I had basically figured out the rhythm of the place.

At seven-thirty in the morning, the kitchen started making coffee. Before eight, the butler delivered the newspaper to the dining room.

If Richard had an early meeting, he usually drank only a cup of black coffee and left.

As for Torin, he did not seem to have any fixed habits.

Sometimes when I went downstairs, he was already sitting by the dining table reading. Sometimes the whole table held nothing but the cup he had used, and the servants told me he had gone out very early.

That was wonderful.

If I had a choice, I would rather we never stay in the same room for more than five minutes. That way I would not have to guess what I might do today to make him unhappy again.

That day Richard and Claire were going to try on a suit and a wedding dress. Before leaving, she lingered by the door for a long time and reminded me several times not to cause trouble.

I nodded and went back to my room to sort through the old cardboard boxes she had packed. They held some things she had brought from where we used to live. Photo albums. Old letters.

Nothing more than records of me growing up. I planned to take them to my mother’s room.

A photograph suddenly slipped out. I lowered my head and picked it up.

In the photo, two women stood in a yard. My mother’s hair hung to her waist, and she wore a floral dress. Beside her stood another woman with an arm around her shoulders.

I saw the woman’s face clearly. It was exactly the same as the woman in the framed photo on the display shelf downstairs—Torin’s mother.

I turned the photo over. On the back was a line of writing: Forever good friends, Margaret.

I stared at the photo for several seconds, my mind racing.

My mother knew Torin’s mother? Since when? Why had she never mentioned it?

I braced a hand against the wall and took a deep breath. I decided to ask her clearly after she came back.

My books and sketchpads were still piled in my suitcase. Before dinner, I went to find the butler and confirm the desk arrangement in my room.

The butler told me the desk was prepared for guests. Torin had only put his books and papers there temporarily.

I thanked him and went back to my room to move the things off the desk.

I had just picked up several books and files when Torin appeared in my room, frowning. “Who told you to touch these?”

I stopped what I was doing. “The butler said the desk is for me. I’m just moving your things aside.”

His tall frame bore down on me. He yanked a few files from my arms, his tone vicious. “You’ve only been living here a few days, and you already think everything can be decided by you?”

I stared at him. The fire that had been pressed down in my chest finally flared up. “Torin, what exactly do you want from me?”

“I don’t go into your room. I don’t start conversations with you. But you still find reasons to pick at me.”

Torin’s expression did not change. “If you think this place is so hard to live in, you can choose to leave.”

I looked at him and suddenly felt a little tired. “How much do you hate me, exactly?”

The room went quiet.

I had thought he would brush the question aside as before with some sarcastic remark. But he only looked at me, his gaze cold on me. “You want to hear the truth?”

“I’ve been waiting for you to tell the truth.”

“Fine.” Torin set the files down.

“I don’t want your mother to marry my father. I don’t want to come home every day and see two strangers replacing the life I used to have.”

“And I’m not going to pretend I don’t think that way just because you don’t like hearing it.”

I suddenly did not know what to say.

I had thought Torin was only a spoiled rich boy.

He hated me because I had not spoken the way he wanted, because I was unwilling to show him the deference he thought he deserved.

But this time, I realized his hostility toward me might not be entirely aimed at me.

He saw me as an intruder. Someone who would take away everything familiar to him and force him to accept a new life.

But that did not mean he had the right to use me as a punching bag. “I understand. But I’m sorry, I can’t move out.”

Torin frowned, as if he had not expected me to end the argument so quickly.

Then he slammed the door and strode out with a dark face.

A few hours later, Richard and my mother returned to the estate.

I paced around my room, clutching the photograph I had found earlier, not knowing how to ask my mother about it.

But I could not let this confusion keep weighing on me.

I took a deep breath and climbed to the third floor. When I reached my mother’s door, I heard faint voices inside.

My mother was lowering her voice as she said to the person on the other end of the phone, “...He treats me very well. He’s handling all the wedding arrangements, so there’s nothing much for me to worry about.”

I stopped outside the door. I could not hear what the person on the other end said, only my mother’s soft laugh. “Of course it’s true.”

She paused for a few seconds, then added, “All right, stop talking. I know what I’m doing.”

I pushed the door open and went in. My mother immediately hung up and tugged at the corners of her mouth at me, as if she had not expected me to barge in so suddenly. “Y-you, why did you come in?”

“The door wasn’t closed.” I walked over and sat down on the chair by the vanity. “Who were you talking to just now?”

My mother smiled. “Nothing. I was just dealing with some old matters.”

I did not press further and cautiously steered the conversation in. “Mother, were there a lot of people trying on wedding dresses today?”

“It was all right. Richard made the appointment long ago,” my mother said lightly.

“Did Richard take his wife to that same place before?” I sounded casual. “Torin’s mother. Did she go there too?”

My mother’s face darkened at once. “Why are you... why are you asking that?”

“Just asking. Richard has been married before, after all. I was curious.”

She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Enough, Florian. Don’t ask around blindly. It’s rude.”

“All right.” I hesitated for a few minutes before taking the photo from my pocket and holding it out to her. “I found this while sorting through the boxes today. Were you friends with Torin’s mother?”

The smile slowly disappeared from Claire’s face.

She snatched the photo from my hand on instinct, her tone a little rushed. “We were young then. Anyone could be good friends with anyone.”

“But you never told me you knew her—”

My mother looked up and cut me off. “This is not something you should be worrying about, Florian.”

Her voice suddenly turned hard. I had never heard her speak to me in that tone.

“The past has nothing to do with you, and it has nothing to do with the present.” She stuffed the photo into the drawer of the nightstand, moving so quickly it looked almost panicked. “The person I’m marrying is Richard, not his ex-wife. Do you understand?”

I shrugged. “I was only asking about a photo.”

She cut me off. “Enough! I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“All right, I won’t ask.” I took a deep breath, got to my feet, and rushed out of the room.

My mother would never usually show that kind of impatience just because I asked about an old matter. But the way she shouted at me just now carried obvious anger and agitation.

As I turned the corner of the corridor, I ran straight into Torin coming the other way.

I instinctively stepped aside. He only frowned at me, as if merely running into me was enough to sour his mood.

Before, I had only thought Torin was selfish beyond saving. He did not want Richard to remarry, so he was full of malice toward my mother and me.

But that photograph told me my mother and Torin’s mother had once been close friends.

I stared into Torin’s pale gray eyes and unconsciously clenched my fist.

Maybe before my mother and I ever walked into this estate, Torin already had a reason he did not want to accept us. And I did not even know what that reason was.

All I had wanted was to stay quietly in the estate, wait until my mother got married, and then find a way to keep my distance from Torin.

But now I probably could not keep my distance from him anymore.