The car drove out of the city center, eventually reaching a cemetery in the suburbs.
Tanya Sinclair was here today to visit her biological mother’s grave. Just as she got out of the car, she received a call from Daisy Bell.
"Tanya, are you there yet?"
"Great, pay my respects to Auntie for me too."
That morning, Daisy had an appointment with a difficult-to-book director and couldn’t find time to come, so she had bought two bundles of white chrysanthemums for the tribute and left them in the car.
At this moment, Tanya was holding both bundles of flowers in her arms. She heard someone call out ’Director Langdon’ over there, and quickly said in a low voice, "Daisy, you go ahead and deal with your matters; I’ll hang up now."
It’s been five years, yet Tanya was not unfamiliar with this cemetery. She used to come here often and would share all her thoughts and worries with her mother.
She never felt the cemetery was eerie; those resting here were the families or loved ones whom others yearned for day and night.
Walking up to her mother’s grave, Tanya was somewhat surprised.
Her mother’s grave was evidently being meticulously cared for; it looked even newer than the graves built last year next to it, with a bouquet of flowers and offerings placed in front of the tombstone.
The offerings were fresh, the flowers hadn’t wilted yet, clearly placed within the last couple of days.
Tanya looked around, feeling a bit puzzled.
Her mother passed away many years ago, and old friends had scattered and lost touch... As for relatives, ha, that was even less likely.
Tanya had no clue for a moment. She put down the flowers in her hand and gazed at the portrait of her mother, Charlotte Sinclair, on the tombstone, feeling a sting in her nose as tears welled up.
"Mom, your daughter is unfilial, coming to see you only after so long."
Charlotte Sinclair passed away before reaching thirty, named as ’long joy’, yet her short life was filled with more sorrow than happiness.
In the portrait, Charlotte was young and beautiful, her eyes gentle and serene.
Tanya took her mother’s surname, Sinclair, because her father Sean Lynn was a live-in son-in-law.
Sean Lynn was initially one of Horace Sinclair’s sponsored poor students. That year, he came joyfully with his university admission letter, and it was Charlotte Sinclair who opened the door—an ordinary yet romantic love at first sight.
Tanya touched her mother’s portrait, her expression mournful.
She remembered when her mother was dying, she held her hand and said: ’Tanya, don’t hate your father... Mom hopes in your life, you’ll be safe, joyful, and only meet good people...’
But how could she not hate?
Tanya closed her eyes, feelings of hatred and anger surging in her chest.
When her mother needed him most, that man abandoned his wife and child, took all the family’s money, and eloped with his mistress!
Yet, her mother was still thinking of him even until her death.
Only encounter good people... ha...
Tanya felt a deep bitterness, mocking herself, "Mom, I’m sorry, I couldn’t fulfill your wish."
When she met Vincent Hawthorne, she once thought he was the one in this life.
As long as she loved him enough and tried hard enough, she could find happiness.
Now, it seemed it was just her own wishful thinking.
Love and marriage are always affairs between two people.
"Ms. Sinclair?" An old, surprised voice suddenly sounded.
Tanya turned around, seeing a middle-aged man in cemetery work clothes, about in his fifties, appear behind her.
Tanya had some impression of him; she often met him on her previous visits to the cemetery. After seeing him several times, they became familiar, and would greet each other.
"Long time no see," Tanya smiled in greeting.
Beautiful, gentle, and polite, Tanya left a deep impression on him as well.
"Haven’t seen you in a while. Heard from your husband that you were ill. Are you better now?"
Tanya’s polite smile slightly froze in surprise, "...you said my husband?"
"Yes, every year, he would personally come to pay respects. He even d a large sum to the cemetery, asking us to take good care of this grave."
Who else could do so much for her besides her husband?
She looked back at the meticulously maintained grave, hardly daring to believe.
Could it be Vincent Hawthorne who had been caring for her mother’s grave all these years?
But she remembered Vincent only came with her to the cemetery once after their engagement, left quickly after paying brief respects.
During the two years after marriage, Tanya had tried to ask Vincent to accompany her; he would either excuse himself or bail on her last minute.
After two or three times, Tanya understood that Vincent didn’t want to come, so she never asked him again, always visiting alone with flowers.
Could it be after she became a vegetative state, Vincent suddenly changed his nature? Or did he feel guilty and want to make amends?
Tanya couldn’t figure it out.
She confirmed with the staff, "You said my husband was Vincent Hawthorne, right?"
"Vincent Hawthorne..." The staff repeated the name, uncertain, scratching his head and struggling to remember.
That man seemed to have told him his name, what was it again?
Unfortunately, too much time had passed, and he couldn’t remember right then, only recalling that the man was extraordinarily handsome, even prettier than TV stars...
He was about to tell Tanya when he was interrupted by a colleague urgently seeking him.
"Old Crawford, stop chatting; there’s work needing you urgently!"
The man hurriedly bid farewell to Tanya, "Ms. Sinclair, I have to get busy."
Tanya nodded politely, watching him leave.
She turned her gaze back to her mother’s tombstone, feeling a bit complicated.
Tanya stood in front of the grave awhile longer, then turned and left. Follow current novels on novｅlfire.net
Elsewhere, Old Man Crawford followed his colleague to help with the new incoming grave, half busy, he suddenly slapped his forehead.
"I remember now, it was Pei!"