Chapter 257 - If She Hadn't Been Born
"I hate her, bro. I hate her so much," Michael said. The anger and hatred in his voice showed how much truth there was in his words. He detested her with every fibre of his being.
Sticking his thumb inside the bandana tied around his head, Hunter took it off, and after untying the knot, he swung it in the air once to free it from the rectangular folding. He could still smell the faint fragrance of Hera's presence in her scarf. Using the soft piece of cloth, Hunter swept it over his face wiping the sweat.
When Hunter turned his head to look at Michael, his best friend had his focus on the soccer field, absent-mindedly watching their friends and classmates playing soccer. The scene where Eric and Danny were playfully kicking each other made Michael smile. Stretching his legs in front of him, he leaned back, supporting his weight on his elbows. If the hard surface of the bleachers dug into his body, he didn't seem to mind.
Hunter sat manspreading, elbows resting on his thighs.. With the scarf, he wiped the sweat from the back of his neck while Michael slowly dropped his head on the bleachers and closed his eyes. Hunter lifted his head, examining the sky above decorated with dark clouds. It seemed it would rain any moment. They both were tired, drenched in sweat from all the hard practise sessions.
Hunter knew his best friend needed the break, so he faked an injury and walked out while Michael pretended to be too exhausted and joined him. The coach allowed them to rest for a few minutes. Michael didn't like speaking about his father in front of everyone, and Hunter knew they wouldn't get more privacy than this.
"Believe me, Mike, I hate her too," Hunter declared, bitterness coating his voice. They spoke of their lost sibling they were supposed to grow up with, whom they both hated.
'I wish she hadn't been born.'
Hunter thought, cursing inwardly.
Hunter loathed her with all his heart for causing so much pain to his parents. If his sister hadn't been born, then this disaster their families had been through could've been avoided. His best friend, his brother Michael would've still had his real family with him, and he wouldn't have lost his father, who sacrificed his life for protecting her.
Both the brothers shared the same sentiment about their lost sister. None of them wanted her to come back into their lives. Both of them wished she would never be discovered and brought back.
Hunter hated seeing Michael so heartbroken and defeated. "Do you want to talk about it?" Hunter asked. He had spoken to his father after Eric dragged Michael to the boy's restroom, where he had cried to his heart's content behind the locked door. The rest of the day went by as Michael hid his suffering from everyone. He laughed along with his friends as if nothing had happened.
Hunter, however, knew him better than anyone and could read in his eyes how much he was hurting inside.
Alexander had no intention of telling Michael through the phone. He wanted to speak to him in person, but he couldn't keep his emotions in check, and in that weak moment, he let his heart overrule his mind. Hunter could understand how much it killed Michael from inside when he heard about his father's condition and the doctor's suggestion.
Michael sat up, imitating Hunter's position and clasped his fingers. He was thinking, and Hunter let him gather his thoughts, waiting patiently.
"You know, when dad told me about papa's condition, I felt as if someone pulled the ground from under my feet, and I was falling deep into the never-ending dark abyss," Michael spoke, his voice low and timid. He had his head bent, looking at his clasped hands. "But when he revealed what doctors had suggested, I couldn't breathe. I felt a hand around my neck suffocating me under a chokehold," he admitted, sounding so frightened.
Michael sniffled before wiping the wetness under his eyes with the back of his hand. Hunter moved closer and threw his arm around Michael's shoulder while the latter shed silent tears. He spoke in a broken whisper when he further revealed his conversation with Alexander.
When Alexander asked what Michael's decision would be, the choice was easy and ready at the tip of his tongue. He wanted to get rid of that hand that had him in a chokehold, crushing his windpipes. He would be able to breathe freely only when he could save his father from death. He was desperate and didn't want to let go of that thin thread of hope yet, but he was guilty.
Michael didn't know how to be selfless at that moment. All he wanted was to keep his father in his life in whatever way possible. However, the burden of guilt had his hands tied, and it weighed too much on his shoulders. His father was in pain, and the best way to relieve him from his sufferings was to let him go, but no matter what, Michael couldn't utter his consent to what the doctors had suggested.
"You've promised me, Dad, that you'll keep him alive as long as you can," Michael had selfishly reminded Alexander and was too relieved when Alexander assured him that he would keep his promise no matter what. So, instead of saying yes or no to Alexander's question, Michael had asked his own question in return. "Dad, what would you do if you had to decide? Would you have chosen your best friend's life or death?"
Alexander's reply was quick, and his voice held no ounce of doubt or second thoughts when he said he would choose Sebastian's life over everything because he was selfish and had no guilt or regret in keeping Sebastian alive against will. Alexander admitted that he was not ready to let him go yet.
"You know, Ace, I was so relieved when dad said that," Michael confessed. "I was glad that I'm not the only selfish bastard who's overlooking papa's critical condition. After that, it was easy to say no because I too am not ready to let him go yet," he admitted, smiling sadly at Hunter. The latter nodded in understanding when the former looked at him with his hopeful eyes.
"It's okay, Mike. Mom always says that it's okay to be selfish sometimes because we need it to survive," Hunter said, smiling at his best friend before pulling him into a tight hug. "Desperate times call for desperate measures, right?" Hunter asked rhetorically. He held him in his embrace until Michael got relief from this predicament.
In Castellanos Mansion:
Her grandfather's trusted guard stopped Helena from entering the wing leading to her own bedroom. She was annoyed at the humiliation and glared at him threateningly, but the man didn't budge from his place. Helena was worried, thinking what evil scheme had been brewing inside her grandfather's cunning head now. He was here to visit Gisela personally.
It was unlike him to come to them instead of demanding their presence in his office reporting to his command.
Muttering a curse under her breath, Helena left as she had no choice but to wait until she got permission from the King.
Inside Gisela's bedroom, Christopher took his seat on one of the maroon coloured butterfly barrel chairs while she was seated opposite him. They sat facing each other. Christopher observed how gracefully she took her place and sat by keeping her knees and ankles together and slanting her legs to the side. She possessed all the royal etiquettes a princess should have.
'You're my favourite granddaughter for a reason.'
He smiled at her, pleased by her decorum.
"I need you to do something for me. Would you do it?" Christopher asked in a sugary-sweet tone. He knew how to compel his youngest successor. Not that she would dare to disobey him, but he would like to be pleasant and kind with her since she held a special place in his heart.
"Yes, grandpa, I'll do anything for you," Gisela answered without stuttering to his grandfather's question, her tone of voice firm. Christopher had come to ask his youngest granddaughter for a favour. He smiled in satisfaction at her response and placed an envelope in front of her.
Gisela eyed the white paper in curiosity. It demanded her attention, the colour very brilliant against the grey coffee table, but she didn't dare touch it without his permission.
Christopher smiled before telling her a story of two best friends.
"A long time ago, there were two best friends who cherished each other very dearly. They would do anything for the other's happiness and well-being. Unfortunately, they fought because of a misunderstanding and parted ways with bitterness filled in their hearts. Yet they couldn't forget each other as they valued their friendship too much, and they missed each other very badly," the King narrated the story in a heart-touching way.
Moved by the emotions her grandfather's eyes held, Gisela couldn't resist interrupting him because it wasn't every day that the King displayed his true feelings on his face.
After all, revealing emotions without any barricade meant weakness in the King's vocabulary.
"Who are they, grandpa?" intrigued by the story, Gisela asked.
"Your father and his best friend Alexander," revealed the King. "You've seen their portrait in Alastair's office, his study and his bedroom," he said. Gisela nodded, frowning as she tried to remember the faces on the portraits. "Now, I want you to help me bring them together and rekindle their friendship," Christopher said.
The frown on Gisela's pretty face deepened. "But how, grandpa?" she asked.
The King grinned at the anticipated question.
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