Love Can’t Be Defeated

"I'm your Auntie, your mother’s best friend. Before she passed away, she entrusted you to my care. I raised you,” she wrote.

"Let go of these unrealistic thoughts. If this is another attempt to confess your feelings, I must decline and refuse your invitation," she had typed.

I actually was not surprised by her rejection.

Ever since I was head over heels with my Auntie at nine years old, I kept professing my love to her and because I was a child at that time, she would scold me and call me a silly kid who didn’t know better.

I naively believed that once I grew up, I could be with her. Each year on my birthday, I eagerly declared my feelings once again.

However, over time her rebuttal became lesser and lesser. Then on the day, I came of age, her attitude toward me changed completely. She became cold and unyielding.

This time, however, I truly just wanted to celebrate her birthday. Couldn't she know that after more than ten years, I finally called her "Auntie" again, just like before?

I just shook my head and replied, "Yes, Auntie, I understand. Don’t worry. I really just want to celebrate your birthday this time. I promise."

She started typing ... then stopped. After what felt like an eternity, she finally replied with a cold "Hmm."

I let out a wry laugh and decided not to press further.

This would be the last time I celebrated her birthday. The last chance to repay her kindness.

***

When I got home, Auntie was not back yet. I glanced at the clock in the living room, it was already eleven thirty at night and she never stayed out this late before.

I recalled that when I was still a child, I was afraid of the dark. As soon as Auntie knew about it, she would go home to accompany me, no matter how busy the company was. She even turned down meetings for me.

However, once she learned about my feelings, she started avoiding me. Her eyes grew distant and stranger when she looked at me.

The toys that she once brought for me from every business trip stopped appearing, The bedtime story and chatting before bed were all gone. She started coming home later and later.

Now she played the role of a polite but detached elder, her words filled with artificial warmth and long-standing insincerity.

At half past twelve, my Auntie finally showed up in a drunken state. However, when I opened the door to greet her, I saw her leaning on a tall man. Her cheeks were flushed and she rested her small face against his chest.

Pain stabbed my heart. The ache spread in my heart.

This was the scene I had feared most, which was Auntie becoming someone else’s woman. It was the reason I could not let go of my feelings, why I confessed to her year after year.

However, my fear became a reality in front of my eyes. So, I just lowered my head and did not say anything.

Half-drunk, Auntie pushed me away with a look of irritation. "Joey? Didn’t I tell you not to wait up for me? I don’t need you taking care of me anymore."

With that, she grabbed the man’s arm and headed upstairs to the second floor. The place where I had not set foot since I grew up.

I stood there, rooted to the spot while watching them as my heart sank even deeper. I knew what would happen once they reached the second floor.

The thought of it and the pain that followed shattered the emotional barriers I had tried so hard to maintain. With a clenched fist, I mustered all my courage and pleaded desperately, "Auntie! Please, don't …."

She paused for a moment, her steps faltering. However, then, with the man’s support, she continued upstairs.

The man glanced back at me, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.