Chapter 281 Was It Not a Memory to Me?
Damon slowly sat down.
"I'm fine," he began.
"But you didn't invite me over just to check on my health, did you?"
Alexander took a seat opposite him, his face growing solemn as he gazed straight at Damon.
"I want to buy your family's old house."
Damon's gaze immediately sharpened. "Why?"
Alexander's Adam's apple bobbed, and his hands clasped in front of him involuntarily tightened.
"That's where Caroline grew up," he said quietly.
"That's the house she lived in when she was still alive. I want to keep it."
Damon took a deep breath.
He knew Alexander couldn't let go of Caroline, that he never would for the rest of his life.
Even though he harbored resentment toward Alexander, he remained ready to yield whenever the subject involved Caroline.
But this time, Damon didn't want to agree.
"What do you want to buy it for?" Damon asked. "Your plan's to lock the door and not let anyone in? Then shut yourself inside and go back to memories of Caroline over and over again?"
Alexander's head snapped up. "I..."
Damon moved his head side to side. "Alexander, regardless of how deeply you long for Caroline, even if you visit every location she ever went to, even if you attempt to walk through her whole life, she's not coming back."
Alexander clenched his fists, his shoulders beginning to tremble.
"I understand that you resent me, and you have valid grounds for it. Still... that home is where she stayed. I truly wish to preserve it. She planted flowers in the yard when she was little, her bedroom window faced that lemon tree in the backyard, she..."
"Enough."
Damon cut Alexander off.
"Do you think I don't know all this? Do you think those are only your memories?"
Alexander froze.
Damon slowly raised his eyes to look at him.
"That was my daughter. She took her first steps in that garden, and she learned to write in that space. As a young child, she was scared of thunder. Every time there was a storm, she'd run barefoot into my room and burrow into my arms, shaking."
His voice began to tremble.
"I failed to protect Caroline. I used to love Caroline dearly too, but without realizing it, just like Isabella, I always felt that Edith was younger and needed more care. I forgot that they were twins, that Caroline was only born a few minutes before Edith. I even resented Caroline after I thought Edith was dead. I kept thinking that Edith was gone because of her. Do you think you're the only one being tortured by guilt? Do you think you're the only one who wants to keep those things?"
Damon's eyes reddened.
"You say you want to buy it as a memorial. Then tell me, if I sell it to you, where am I supposed to go to find my part of it?" Tears suddenly fell from Damon's eyes.
Alexander suddenly didn't know how to argue back. He just felt incredibly ridiculous.
What right did he have to buy that house?
He was merely consumed by his own grief over the loss of his wife. He had utterly overlooked the fact that the elderly man before him had lost his daughter.
He knew very clearly that this pain was even heavier than his own.
If Alexander, driven by Edith's false demise, had senselessly tormented Caroline over those five years, gradually driving her closer to death.
Then in Damon's heart, wasn't he himself another kind of murderer?
As he had mentioned just a moment earlier, she was also his daughter. Yet throughout Caroline's brief existence, he had failed her, holding bitterness toward her due to Edith. Even when Alexander decided to marry Caroline, he had clearly realized that Alexander might hurt her, yet because of his own pain from losing one daughter, he chose to close his eyes and pretend not to know.
With the whole truth now exposed, Caroline had already passed away. How could Damon's suffering at this point be any less than Alexander's?
"Alexander, have you thought about my feelings?" Damon asked.
"For me, Edith's death back then was a wound I thought would stay with me for life. Later, Caroline was gone, and Edith, who should have been dead, came back alive. Tell me, as a father, how am I supposed to face all this?"
He slumped heavily back into the sofa, clutching his head in pain.
"Edith is now with you. She was wrong, and whatever the consequence might be, she'd have to deal with it herself." I don't want to interfere anymore. But Alexander, do you really not want to leave me any memories at all? Even if it's just letting me look at that house from afar, letting me fool myself, pretending nothing ever happened—is even that not allowed?"
Alexander's lips trembled violently, his throat felt blocked, barely able to make a sound.
"I'm sorry." After a long time, Alexander lowered his head.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Neville. It's me... I'm not worthy."
Damon didn't answer.
Silence fell over the living room again.
After a long time, Damon finally spoke again.
"The key."
Alexander looked up, frozen in place.
Damon took a set of keys from his pocket, set them down on the coffee table, and carefully slid them in Alexander's direction.
"I never replaced the lock," Damon explained. "Even though I left that place many years ago, I never once altered the lock on that door."
Alexander looked at the keys. His fingers twitched a little, yet he didn't stretch out to take them.
"I won't sell it." Damon said.
"I won't sell it to anyone. But you... if you want to go there, then go."
Alexander's head jerked up, his eyes immediately reddening.
"The lawn in the garden must have grown quite high by now." Damon averted his gaze, ceasing to look at him.
"The lemon tree hasn't been pruned either. I don't know if it's still alive. If you really want to do something, clean up the yard. Caroline loved that tree when she was little. Every year when it bore fruit, she'd count them all to see how many more there were than the year before. And her favorite rose wall. Those flowers died years ago. If you still have the energy, replant them for her. I'll send you a list of Caroline's favorite flowers."
Alexander's tears finally fell.
"Thank you," he choked out.
Damon said nothing. His eyes grew unfocused, fixed on a blank spot, as his mind wandered off to someplace else.
After another long while, he spoke again.
"Alexander, do you believe a heaven truly exists in this life? If someday you and I also depart from this world, will we be reunited with her?"
He stopped halfway through.
He moved his head side to side, as though aware that he had just posed an overly impractical question.
"Never mind."
Alexander reached out his hand and picked up the keys with trembling fingers.
The metal still carried the heat from Damon's hand, yet when it touched his own skin, it felt simultaneously icy and searing.
He carefully pressed the keys against his chest.
"Thank you, Mr. Neville."