Chapter 73
Arianne returned home with Gio right on time that evening. However, it was obvious to Franz that something might have happened during her visit with the Conway family. She was unusually silent this time; her responses to the twins’ questions were short, and when dinner was over, she left the dining table and went to her study without a word.
Franz guided the twins through their nighttime routine and tucked them into bed after a short playtime in their bedroom, pulling the blankets up to their chins. He was relieved that the children didn’t notice Arianne’s mood and assumed she came home tired instead.
He stepped out to the garden to clear his mind before calling it a day, but he found Aunt Estella already seated on the wooden bench near the stone path.
He blinked and was about to turn back inside when the elderly woman called him from behind.
“Tired?” she asked. “It must have been hard for you to play with the twins the entire day p>
Franz let out a low chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck. He was tired, alright, but just thinking about how happy the twins were earlier made the effort worth it.
“They knew how to tire me out,” he admitted, “but I enjoyed the time I spent with them p>
“You’ll be a good father someday, Franz,” Aunt Estella commented, her hands folded neatly on her lap.
Franz was taken aback and wasn’t sure how to respond to those words. Such a thought had never crossed his mind. He knew very well what to expect when he married Arianne.
“Come and join this old lady here, Franz,” Aunt Estella said, gesturing to the empty seat across from her.
Franz hesitated for a moment, but eventually sat down on the bench opposite her.
The night breeze felt cold but comforting against his skin, rustling the leaves above them. The season was changing fast; so were his and the twins’ lives. It only felt like yesterday when he returned from work to an empty house at the end of the day. Now, he looked forward to seeing Arianne and the twins after a long day at work.
“You must be thinking you can’t have a child with Aria, right p>
He remained silent, but the way he pressed his lips together was enough for Aunt Estella to know she was right.
“It’s not that Aria didn’t want to have children,” she continued, her eyes drifting toward the darker end of the garden. “After what happened to her mother, Aria didn’t think she could understand maternal love p>
Arianne’s meeting with the Conway family had reminded her of the things she didn’t want to revisit.
“How bad was it, Aunty?” Franz asked, his voice low, as if the words might carry past the hedges.
Aunt Estella hummed, then glanced at him as if considering how much she could tell him.
“I’ll tell you this because you are Aria’s husband. These things might forever remain unknown if I bring them to my grave p>
“Aunty, please don’t say such words.” Franz frowned.
“Before Aria was born, I was just a maid at the Conway family,” Aunt Estella started. “But when Miss Ysabella got married, I was brought with her to the marital home she shared with Gabriel p>
She paused, her eyes going blank as she looked past Franz toward the dark lawn.
“I still remember the day when Aria was born. Because of a difficult pregnancy, Miss Ysabella had to undergo a Cesarean section. Aria was small and underweight when the nurse placed her in my arms p>
Aunt Estella grew teary-eyed and tried to dry her eyes with the back of her hand.
“Sorry, I can’t help it p>
“No. No. There’s no need to apologize, Aunty,” Franz replied immediately. “You don’t have to tell me if this isn’t easy for you p>
Aunt Estella heaved a deep breath, her shoulders lifting before slowly lowering.
“No, let me She insisted.
Franz remained silent. He allowed the silence to stretch between them, broken only by the wind brushing through the shrubs.
“Miss Ysabella was only twenty when she gave birth to Aria. I was twenty-five then. I thought Miss Ysabella didn’t want to hold her baby because she didn’t know how to be a mother, but I was proven wrong p>
Aunt Estella met Franz’s gaze directly this time.
“Gabriel named Aria after his deceased greatest love to spite both the Summers and the Conway families p>
Franz’s expression shifted into horror. “W-what p>
“Arianna Brennan. She was his longtime lover. Because he had been engaged to Miss Ysabella since childhood and the Summers disapproved of his relationship with Ms. Brennan, they were forced to part ways. Ms. Brennan didn’t take it well and ended her life after the wedding. Gabriel blamed the two families and resented Miss Ysabella because of it p>
“But to name Aria after his dead lover?” Franz was astounded.
“I know, right?” Aunt Estella nodded. “Even I found it despicable. Miss Ysabella never held her daughter as an infant for too long and never breastfed her. I was the one forced to step up and care for Aria p>
Aunt Estella smiled—a genuine one.
“I was lost at first, but I came to love Aria like my own,” she continued. “I witnessed almost all of her firsts—her first crawl, first step, her first word. Aria was an adorable and lovely baby. She never gave me a hard time. Though she didn’t come from me, she’s my little girl, Franz p>
Franz gave her a small smile. He didn’t doubt it. He was glad Arianne had someone like Aunt Estella in her life.
“Did her mother hate her?” he asked. He knew he would never have the chance to ask these questions, especially not from Arianne.
“You want to know the truth?” Aunt Estella asked.
Franz nodded.
“It’s hard to tell, to be honest. There were times I caught Miss Ysabella sneaking into the nursery late at night, standing beside Aria’s crib and just staring at her p>
Ysabella never knew Aunt Estella was aware. The nanny never interrupted them and only stepped away after ensuring Ysabella posed no threat to her daughter.
Franz swallowed. “Did she ever… hold her properly? Not in secret p>
Aunt Estella lowered her gaze.
“There were days Miss Ysabella would try,” she said. “She would carry Aria in the afternoons when visitors weren’t around. But she never stayed long. It was as if holding her reminded her of something she was trying to forget p>
“The name?” Franz asked quietly.
Aunt Estella nodded once.
“And Gabriel?” he pressed.
“He never looked at Aria without remembering someone else. It must have been hard for him to watch Aria grow up. He named her after his dead lover, but Aria grew up looking more like Miss Ysabella p>
The garden fell silent, the distant streetlights casting faint shadows across the lawn.
“For a child,” Aunt Estella continued after a moment, “that sort of air becomes normal. She grew up learning not to ask why the room felt heavy p>
Franz did not respond.
He thought of Arianne earlier that evening—silent, controlled, already withdrawing into herself at the dining table.
“She was not born cold,” Aunt Estella said softly. “But she was born into something that could not be warm p>
The wind stirred the leaves above them.
“And children,” she added, “learn quickly when they are not welcomed. They are young, but not entirely clueless p>
Franz looked toward the lit window of Arianne’s study, where the curtain shifted slightly from the draft.
Inside, she was alone with her papers.
Outside, the night deepened.
“She was only a baby then,” Aunt Estella murmured. “And Aria learned early p>