Chapter 318: A Tragic Childhood

Aurora did not interrupt him, as this story was just beginning, and her heart began to fluctuate with his tale. As a woman, she was deeply attuned to the pain he described- there had been times when she was physically unable to move, and she could only desperately shouting "no," and calling out for Julian. Fortuitously, Julian had intervened in time to prevent the ordeal, unlike his mother, who was not so lucky, which fueled Julian's hatred towards Joaquin.

Despite Joaquin's irascibility and his disregard for his wishes by arranging an engagement, she could still see the love for his son in his eyes. However, with such a past, no matter what he did, Julian would never accept him. There is no love without reason, nor hatred without cause, and Joaquin's love was so selfish that it threatened to destroy a budding flower.

This was why Julian had chosen to silently protect rather than possess, she guessed.

"Didn't your mother ever tell your father about these things?" she asked gently.

"Do you think a woman who yearned to escape would care about such matters? She saw right through it-his wife was consumed by jealousy and bitterness. She had married him not out of affection, and it was only in his later years that he understood what liking someone meant.

Though she spent her life with him, she never received a speck of his love, and this resentment twisted her deeply. She hated my mother, whose sorrow was greater than heart could bear.

Even though she stopped seeking death, she would never forgive him, nor would she love him. Since she did not love him, why would she be jealous? His wife, clever as she was, knew how much he adored my mother and didn't dare to truly harm her, resorting only to petty schemes.

he was happy just because I was my mother's child. At that time, he thought about annulling his marriage to officially marry my mother, but she threatened

not love. She would not marry, nor would she agree to his absurd demands, and he thought that having me, a child would tie a mother down. He gradually relaxed his supervision, but the surface calm was deceptive. When I was three

I made even a slight mistake, why she taught me life's philosophies at

when she died, she wanted half of her ashes scattered across the mountains and lakes, and the other half

liquid trickling down the back of her neck; he was crying. A child having to

chest, and gently hugged his waist,

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too young to understand why she did what she did, as she spent a long time locked up in

dose of sleeping pills, all of which she pretended to need. She hoarded all the pills and eventually took

I saw her sitting on the swing in the yard, her eyes slightly closed and the corners of her mouth turned up; I thought she was just sleeping, but little did I know she would never wake up again. I quietly took the necklace

Everyone thought she was a common girl who had

a sigh of relief, secure that no one would usurp her position, but I became a thorn in her side. I was too young then to seek out my mother's

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