Chapter 97: Redeeming the Guilt

To make up for my guilt toward Kevan for having made him wait so long at the cafeteria this afternoon, I decided to stop by his house after school.

My heart grew even more touched when I found out that he had not touched his ordered food at all before I arrived. In the end, I chose to spend the rest of my day with him.

I lay back comfortably, using Kevan’s thigh as a pillow. Meanwhile, Kevan gently stroked my hair, occasionally letting out a soft chuckle when I told him snippets of funny scenes from the comic I was reading.

That calm was shattered instantly when the bedroom door was shoved open forcefully. The loud impact between wood and wall echoed throughout the room. I flinched, reflexively rising from my position.

In front of the door stood an elderly woman who still appeared fit, with both hands planted on her hips. Judging from the lines on her face, I guessed her age had just reached fifty-five.

My own grandmother was already sixty-seven years old, yet her energy and cheerfulness often made me forget that she was no longer a teenager. However, this was not the right time to compare the two.

I tried to stand upright, even though my eyes could not stop sweeping over her appearance from head to toe.

The woman wore bright yellow clothing that matched her wide-brimmed hat. A golden sheen seemed to dominate everything, from the frames of her glasses, her wristwatch, bracelet, necklace, to the pin fastened on the left side of her chest.

Her wide-brimmed hat was adorned with a striking floral accent, reminding me of an obsession with British aristocratic fashion, though in my opinion the result instead looked excessive and poorly matched.

"What are you two doing alone in a bedroom, huh?" she asked with a gaze that stabbed sharply.

My body stiffened, and instinctively I gripped Kevan’s arm.

Kevan gently rubbed my fingers, offering a calming smile.

"Grandma, let me introduce you. This is Frel. Kevan’s girlfriend."

"Hello, Grandma." I was just about to raise my hand to greet her, but her sharp glare made my courage shrink.

I winced and moved closer to Kevan.

The silence was soon broken by the sound of hurried footsteps. Mr. Aditya and Mrs. Viona followed, entering the room.

Mr. Aditya stepped closer to me with a worried look. "Are you okay, Frel?"

I paused for a moment.

Why did he ask that?

Even though I was confused, I still shook my head while putting on an innocent smile. "I’m fine. Besides, Kevan is here."

I looked up, gazing at Kevan as he flashed a warm smile at me.

"Don’t worry, Dad. I won’t let Grandma do anything to Frel," Kevan said firmly.

My thoughts began to wander wildly. What was actually going on with this old woman? Was she a vampire? A dragon-headed crocodile? Or perhaps a female snake demon?

I immediately shook my head, trying to drive those silly thoughts out of my mind.

"What are you doing here, Mom?" Mr. Aditya asked in a stiff tone.

"How could you let Kevan be alone in a bedroom with a girl like her?" the woman shot back harshly.

"What do you mean, Mom?"

"Just look at her clothes, dull like a maid’s."

Oh my God, her words!

Instantly, I lowered my head to examine the clothes I was wearing. I was only wearing a plain blue T-shirt paired with black knee-length shorts.

My brow furrowed.

Hey, what’s wrong with wearing clothes like this?

They were indeed old clothes, but not as dull as she claimed. Besides, I was at home, not attending a formal party.

"Mother, don’t go too far."

"What did I do wrong? I’m speaking the truth. Look at her, her clothes aren’t even branded," she said while casting a cynical glance at me.

I swallowed hard. So the problem turned out to be about pride and brands.

"She’s not on the same level as our family," she added.

"Enough, Mom!" Mr. Aditya snapped.

"What’s enough about it? Kevan is far more suited to Putri than to this homeless girl."

That insult made my body freeze. I clenched my fists tightly, trying to suppress the emotions that were beginning to surge in my chest.

"Frel is my girlfriend now, Grandma. Not Putri," Kevan retorted firmly.

Putri? Who was she?

"Frel is a good girl, Mom," Mrs. Viona said. "Far better than Putri. If only you were willing to get to know her more closely—"

"A girl like that will never be good," she cut in quickly. "What’s so hard about waiting one more year until Putri graduates from school? A homeless girl like her can never be compared to Putri, who is beautiful and comes from a respectable family."

I let out a long breath. Once again, this was about wealth and social status.

"Please, don’t insult Frel, Grandma," Kevan said as he took my hand and held it tightly. "Putri is the past. We ended things even before she left for America. You need to know that now I only love Frel. There is only Frel, not Putri."

So, Putri was Kevan’s ex-girlfriend?

To me, that was not a big deal. I also had a past. I tried to recall the list of names that had once passed through my heart. Rio, Sam, Adit, and then who else?

My focus quickly returned to the heated situation.

"Hasn’t Mother realized her past mistakes yet? How long is this going to go on, Mom?"

I was startled to hear Mr. Aditya’s voice rise. There was pain and anger clearly reflected in his eyes.

He shook his head in disappointment. "Let me be the only one who bears that bitterness, Mom. Not Kevan. I will not allow the same mistake to happen to my child. Kevan is free to choose whomever he loves."

Viona appeared to stroke her husband’s arm, trying to calm Mr. Aditya. Kevan fell silent with a worried look, while the grandmother remained mute, though she still occasionally glared at me with hatred.

If observed closely, this old woman’s face truly suited playing an antagonist in a drama. My mouth felt itchy, wanting to retaliate against her insults with words just as sharp.

However, I immediately took a deep breath. I could not lose control. She was Mr. Aditya’s mother. I had to maintain my attitude out of respect for Mr. Aditya, Mrs. Viona, and of course Kevan.

Besides, she was the only one who hated me here, not the entire family.

Within seconds, I managed to regain control of myself. I forced a cheerful smile onto my face to lighten the mood.

"Grandma just arrived, right? How about—"

"Don’t call me Grandma! I am not the grandmother of a poor child like you," the woman cut in curtly while turning her face away.

I gave a bitter smile, but before I could react, Mr. Aditya’s voice thundered through the room.

"Mother!"

And this was the first time I had ever seen Mr. Aditya that angry.

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