FORTY-FIVE
Aliya
PRESENT
He died.
They called it suicide.
I don’t know how many hours or days I’ve been lying in my bed and how many tears I’ve already shed. Knowing that Kilian, no, Lio, is no longer here has turned my entire life upside down with a devastating blow.
But the fact that he took his own life hits me even harder, flooding over me like a tsunami crashing onto the shore.
No matter how hard life may be sometimes, one day it will get easier. One day, everything will get easier.
That’s what he always told me, but how heavy must the burden on his shoulders have been for him to feel compelled to violate his own principles?
When I last saw him, completely worn out and tired, I should have known. I should have pushed harder, shown more concern. I should have been there, damn it, to help him carry the weight.
What a cruel twist of fate that the person who kept me from taking my life ended up killing himself.
Tears stream down my cheeks as I cling to the pillow, my body shaking with sobs.
He promised me.
He promised me he would always be there for me.
All my hope of finding him one day, of speaking to him one last time, has been shattered.
Somewhere deep inside, maybe I knew it already but just didn’t want to accept it. I should have suspected that he was no longer alive after he disappeared one day, leaving only a single note in my pocket. I should have known that the letters he wrote weren’t just ordinary letters, but farewell notes addressed to his beloved brother.
I glance at my desk where his book and the letters lie.
I killed my brother.
Milan’s words echo in my head.
I don’t know exactly what he meant by that, but I can tell he feels responsible for Kilian’s death. From the letters, I know that Kilian’s greatest demon was his mother.
He hid all the truth from Milan to protect him. He loved him so much that he was willing to endure his hatred if it meant Milan could keep his mother in his memory as a good person. And I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding, and that’s why Milan is blaming himself.
But I have to change that.
It’s fate that the letters ended up in my hands.
It will be difficult to give Milan his brother’s last words. He might hate me, be angry at me for keeping all this from him. But I owe it to Kilian. I owe it to Milan. I owe it to myself not to leave the person who saved my life in the dark.
I haven’t read everything yet. I’m missing one last letter.
But now that I know he’s gone, I don’t want to read something that was never meant for me in the first place.
With determination, I wipe away my tears and stand up.
Forgive me, Lio, but I’m going to have to show your brother the truth you fought so hard to keep hidden.
I throw on whatever clothes I can find and tie my hair up into a high ponytail. A glance in the mirror reflects my swollen eyes, pale skin, and dry lips.
My gaze falls on the envelope.
I should have given it back to Milan right away.
Slipping the letters into my bag, I pull on my jacket and, for the first time in what feels like forever, leave my room.
Daniel is just coming up the stairs as I approach. “What happened to you?” he gives me a sideways glance, but I just walk past him.
The cool evening air fills my lungs, granting me a brief moment of clarity.
As I sit in the taxi, I keep reminding myself that I’m doing the right thing. That I’m not betraying Kilian by going against his wishes.
The ride to Milan feels endless until the driver finally stops in front of the Shane estate. I pay him and step out, a knot forming in my stomach.
The sight of the imposing house sends a chill down my spine, but I gather my courage and approach the gate. With trembling fingers, I press the bell, which is followed by a soft chime.
Humbert, the Shane family’s gatekeeper, looks at me in concern. “Are you alright, Miss?”
I nod and force a smile as he lets me in.
Since I’ve visited Milan’s house several times over the past few weeks, the staff now recognizes me.
“Is Milan home?” I ask.
“Yes, the young master should be home,” Humbert replies, opening the front door for me. I thank him as I step into the grand Shane mansion. Memories of past visits flood my mind, but this time, there’s a feeling of unease in the air.
Just as I’m about to head up the stairs, Pavla, the kitchen maid who has grown fond of me over the past few visits, stops me.
“Oh no, what’s wrong with you, child?” Like a grandmother, she cups my face, inspecting my tear-streaked eyes.
“I’m fine,” I try to reassure her. “Is Milan in his room?”
Her brows knit together. “Don’t tell me that brat did something.”
I’m about to assure her that Milan’s innocent when his voice rings through the air. “Aliya?”
When he appears at the top of the stairs, I see a mixture of confusion and surprise on his face.
He descends the stairs, his footsteps echoing in the hallway. “Why are you here?”
His dark hair is tousled, framing his face in a careless yet charming way. He’s wearing a simple T-shirt that clings to his torso, accentuating his lean yet muscular build. Gray joggers hang loosely from his long legs, giving him a relaxed look.
Pavla swats him on the shoulder with her rag, causing him to flinch. “What did you do, you brat?”
He shoots Pavla an irritated look, but before he can say anything, she scolds him again. “How can you talk to a girl like that when she’s clearly sad?”
“I’m fine,” I reassure her again before turning to face him. “Can we talk?”
His dark eyes scan over my swollen eyes, red lids, and the pale skin before his jaw tightens slightly. He nods and gestures for me to follow him.
Pavla grumbles about Milan’s behavior, muttering something under her breath in her native language as I follow him into the living room.
The room is tastefully decorated, with modern furniture blending harmoniously with traditional elements. A large fireplace occupies one wall, its soft glow casting a warm light across the space.
There’s an uncomfortable silence for a moment as we sit down, facing each other. He watches me closely, waiting for me to speak.
He must find it strange that I’m so devastated over news about his brother. After all, he has no idea that I knew Lio. That I knew him so well.
Or has my constant questioning about him given Milan a hint that Lio wasn’t a stranger to me?
I clutch my bag tightly and take a deep breath.
Milan matters to me, and I don’t want to keep anything from him anymore.
“I … I have something for you,” I begin, reaching into my bag.
His eyebrows rise. The silence between us is broken only by the sound of me rummaging through my things.
“What is it?”
Fear and anxiety over his reaction cause me to start rambling. “It’s about Lio. I mean Kilian. Your brother … He never wanted you to feel the pain he did. I don’t know why you think his decision … has to do with you, but it doesn’t. He didn’t hate you. He loves you more than you could ever know. And these letters. I found them, and … He left them for you, to-”
Milan raises a hand, trying to stop my rush of words. “Whoa, slow down. Take a breath.” He massages his temple with one hand, clearly overwhelmed by the flood of information I’ve thrown at him. “What are you talking about? What letters?”
I try to calm my racing heart and gather my thoughts. “Kilian wrote you letters. I found them.”
When his eyes land on the thick envelope in my trembling hands, a mix of shock and disbelief crosses his face.
He sits there for a moment, speechless, his lips slightly parted.
“Letters from Li- … Kilian?”
The usually composed and confident Milan seems shaken. His voice carries an edge of uncertainty that I’ve never heard before.
I stand from the comfortable chair and walk over to him, extending the envelope toward him.
“Please, read them all. Maybe you’ll understand his decision better after.”
He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing visibly. Milan takes the envelope from my trembling hands, his fingers briefly brushing mine.
He stares at it for a moment, as if he can’t quite believe this tangible connection to his brother is real.
Finally, he takes a deep breath, opening the envelope while I stand silently beside him, hoping that these words will bring him the peace he so desperately needs.
The peace that both brothers need.