Chapter 41 41. Reinforced Suspicion!
Saintilia’s POV
Tina, at first felt like an anchor in a sudden, violent storm. Little did I know, this complete stranger, whose motives I could not yet understand, would soon become the complex, unreliable guidance that would lead me through the maze of an uncertain future. She was a necessary evil, a puzzle I was not equipped to solve.
I strongly insisted that I could handle things alone, driven by a fierce desire to maintain my independence, even at a young age. My protest was quickly dismissed. She presented me with a difficult, uncompromising ultimatum: either she remained here with me in my home, or I would have to accompany her back to where she came from.
Now years later, I realize it was all a ruse to trap me. Since I was only eleven years old then, the very thought of leaving the only home I had ever known was unfathomable. Faced with the terrifying prospect of abandoning my familiar world for an unknown fate, I chose to let her stay.
I often wondered if she even had a place to stay herself, a home to which she could reasonably take an orphaned child. This uncertainty was compounded by another curious detail: she never returned for the things she supposedly left behind, strongly suggesting that whatever she arrived with was all she truly possessed. This reinforced the suspicion that she was a wanderer, perhaps even running from something, and had simply latched onto me as a means of establishing a stable existence. And likely as much about securing her own future.
The rhythm of our quiet home as usual was one afternoon when Adeline appeared in a flood of excitement. She was bearing her latest culinary creation, genuinely eager for us to taste her masterpiece. Adeline's passion for cooking knew no bounds; she was an enthusiast who possessed a remarkable, almost intuitive talent for concocting unique, delightful dishes from the simplest, most available ingredients.
While I thoroughly enjoyed every delectable, flavorful bite, Tina, on the other hand, appeared distinctly restless and uninterested in the meal. Her lack of engagement was noticeable, a silent mood that contrasted sharply with Adeline’s warmth.
Adeline, intimately familiar with Tina’s complex and often brooding disposition, gracefully brushed aside her mood, choosing not to confront the obvious tension. We continued our delightful porch feast, exchanging warm stories and genuine laughter, creating a brief oasis of domestic contentment.
Out of the blue, Adeline turned to me and showered me with a heartfelt compliment. She expressed her wish to have a daughter with my beauty and spirit, declaring my entire essence unsuited for mere village life. It was a kind, perhaps slightly dramatic, statement that nevertheless spoke to a recognition of my potential beyond our small community.
The compliment, however, seemed to act as a trigger for Tina. "If only I looked like you, I would be married with children," Tina blurted, the confession raw and driven by a sudden, ugly envy. It was a deep-seated grievance finally surfacing.
Adeline, never one to mince words, seized upon the underlying bitterness of the statement. "Are you honestly suggesting that your lack of height and conventional beauty has made it challenging for you to find a husband?" her tone loaded with biting sarcasm. She did not soften the blow but laid out the harsh comparison plainly. "And that if you Tina possessed Saintilia's attributes, you know being attractive, tall, and slender, you truly believe it would be easier to find a partner?”
Adeline’s question hung in the air, forcing Tina to confront the resentful core of her remark. It stripped away the social pleasantries, exposing the deep well of insecurity and jealousy that clearly motivated much of Tina’s veiled hostility and complex behavior toward me. This moment revealed that her priorities were complicated by a profound, simmering envy and jealousy. Tina's expressive face mirrored the truth of Adeline's sharp probe. "If I had her looks, being single wouldn't be an option." She continued not grasping Adeline's questions as insults.
"Oh, trust me Tina. You would be single even if you were prettier than Saintilia." Adeline didn't pause for breath.
"What do you mean by that?" Tina demanded, the wounded vanity clear in her voice.
"Because your attitude stinks and you are far too selfish. So, no man would make you his wife, pretty or not."
Adeline, with her characteristic lack of filter, voiced my exact, silent thoughts. That piercing, uncompromising honesty was precisely what had always captivated me about her; she possessed an unnerving ability to cut straight to the core of any issue. As her brutal words hung in the air, forcing Tina to face the uncomfortable truth of her own envy and insecurity. Tina fell into an almost eerie, wounded silence. The raw accusation of her jealousy had clearly struck a nerve.
The atmosphere around the porch table became instantly thick with unspoken resentment. Unable or unwilling to offer a defense, Tina chose a silent retreat. Claiming she was no longer hungry, abruptly rose from her seat and announced that she was going for a walk. An act meant to appear as a seemingly innocent stroll around the house to compose herself.
Adeline, however, immediately shattered the illusion of a casual walk. She hinted that Tina’s departure was undoubtedly leading her directly to the local bar, not for fresh air, but in a deliberate search for Emilio. apparently she had spotted Tina there just a few days before, specifically asking for Emilio’s whereabouts. Adeline relayed the detail with the casual air of a person who had witnessed the event firsthand and was certain of the significance.
I remained tight-lipped and outwardly passive, fully aware of Adeline's dramatic love for gossip and her tendency to embellish any information she acquired. While there might indeed be some truth to her speculations about Tina's destination or her interest in Emilio; a man whose reputation was dubious at best. I had no intention of encouraging her in any way to feed the rumor mill and validate her more dramatic conclusions.
I preferred to observe Tina's movements and motives on my own terms. Tina’s sudden outburst had left a sour note, but it confirmed a growing understanding: she harbored deep resentment toward me.
The following day, I decided it was time to pay father a visit at his quiet resting place. I managed to put a beautiful, simple bouquet of flowers together, along with a small broom.
"Where did you get these beautiful flowers?" Tina asked, pointing to the arrangement in my hand.
"Oh, I picked them up in Celia's backyard and put them together myself. I am on my way to visit Jonas. Would you like to come along?"
Tina's refusal was abrupt and firm. She was convinced that once someone passed away and was laid to rest, there was no need to repeatedly visit their grave. She expressed her profound discomfort with cemeteries and asked that the topic not be brought up again. Nevertheless, she suggested I get a second bouquet and place it on Jonas's tombstone on her behalf.
"Don't stay too late," she said, her voice unusually subdued.
"Okay," I agreed, already focused on the visit ahead.