Chapter 77 - Right Choice

Stephan's voice resounded throughout the corridor, making Tristan instinctively straighten his back and look over his shoulder at the door, verifying that it was still closed. Once his worries were quelled, he couldn't help but heave a sigh of relief, pressing a hand against his c.h.e.s.t to calm down his pounding heart.

"Stephan is near," whispered the little boy into the phone. "I have to hang up soon."

"All right. Don't forget to hide the cell phone so that your mother won't see it."

"Hm, I know." Tristan paused, chewing on his lower lip for a short second before softly asking, "When will you come back home? I miss you."

"… I'm sorry, I don't think I will be able to visit you any time soon."

"Is it because my mom doesn't want to see you? Or is it because Jake is mean to you? If it's because of that, I can talk to them, and everything will be like before…"

"No, it's not because of this. I have to take care of a few things, so can you be patient and wait for me? I also miss you."

A silence fell between them, and the little boy clenched his small fists, not reassured one bit by Gabriel's words. Be patient? But for how long? How long must he wait for his brother to come back? A few days? A few weeks? Or maybe even longer? It had already been over a month since the last time they spoke to each other; if Tristan hadn't contacted him, would his brother have done it instead? Would he have?

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In truth, maybe his brother got fed up with him like everyone else and didn't want to play with him anymore. Soon, he would say the same thing as Jake, that he was too old for this. But Tristan didn't want to accept such a reality. He also refused to believe the harsh words his mother spoke of the young man. Gabriel wasn't heartless, and he certainly didn't abandon him to run away with his girlfriend!

Although the little boy didn't understand everything that was going on around him, he could at least tell that his mother was the one who had driven Gabriel out. The day after he left, she had thrown all the things in his bedroom that he hadn't brought with him in the trash, saying that it was good riddance.

And later, whenever she said awful things about him and Tristan contradicted her, she would get angry and often raise her voice, making the little boy cry his eyes out. The flood of tears always brought Angela back to her senses, but she never apologized, insisting that everything she said was the truth. Now, Tristan wasn't allowed to talk to Gabriel, much less play with him.

But in the end, no matter how many times Angela tried to brainwash her son, Tristan still couldn't get rid of the affection he held for his half-brother. It couldn't be helped; Gabriel had taken care of him for the past few months, and the boy had grown attached to the young man, always clinging to him whenever he was in the vicinity.

Because Gabriel was locked up in the villa when he pretended to have amnesia, he spent most of his time with Tristan, playing with him all day long. And at one point in time, the young man even started reading him bedtime stories, something no one had ever done for the child.

Even though Tristan's mother spoiled him rotten, giving him every toy he wanted, she wasn't very present in his life, too busy with this or that to spend time with her son. The same could be said for his father, who he seldom talked to. As for Jake, that guy thought that hanging out with his little brother was a chore and always pushed him aside, barely throwing him a glance.

As such, the only one who ever played with him, listened to him, or even just chatted with him was Gabriel. And now that the young man had moved out, the boy was left alone again, and his heart grew emptier with each passing day. After having a taste of what it felt like to be showered with love, Tristan deeply craved for it. But deep down, he was also afraid to have done something that had somehow made Gabriel dislike him, and that this was why he hadn't come back for him.

"Tristan?"

"Yes?" sniffed the boy, trying to chase away the sad thoughts that had come to haunt him again.

"Is Stephan near your bedroom?"

"I think? He seems to be getting closer, but I think he's also doing stupid things to hold up mom and Jake. My brother seems to be shouting mean things at him, again."

"I see. It would be best if you hung up before they get too close." There was a short silence before Gabriel softly added, "And Tristan, I really do miss you, believe me. I'm sorry I can't be there for you right now, but never forget that your brother loves you very much, no matter how far apart we are."

Upon hearing those words, Tristan was stunned silly, a foolish look on his face. But soon, silent tears started to roll down his cheeks, reddening the corner of his eyes. His brother knew him too well. He didn't say anything, yet he noticed his uneasiness and comforted him right away. In this family, he was the only one who had ever paid such close attention to him, digging up the emotions he was trying so hard to hide.

"I love you too."

"I know. Take care of yourself."

Eventually, Tristan hung up, and Gabriel stared at the phone with what seemed to be sad eyes. Sometimes, he couldn't help but wonder if he made the right choice. After taking care of his little brother for so long, he also got attached to the child. Once freed from his mother's bad influence, he turned out to be a cute and innocent boy, albeit a little spoiled at times.

Sighing, Gabriel rubbed his neck and tried to convince himself that Tristan would be okay. For now, the ones who needed his help was Masha and her family. After his friend recovered physically and mentally, he would try to find a way to bring his little brother to his side. Until then, he could only pray that Angela and Jake wouldn't succeed in brainwashing him.

"Something is weighing on your mind?"

The soft voice snapped the young man out of his thoughts, and he lowered his eyes toward Misha, who was looking at him with a c.o.c.ked eyebrow.

"No, it's nothing," replied Gabriel as he shook his head, finally taking a step back from the landline.

"Liar," snorted the boy, a disdainful expression on his face. "It's not like I can force you to talk, but if you bottle up everything, you're going to explode one of these days, just saying."

"Don't worry, I'm fine," smiled the young man, ruffling the child's hair.

With a swift movement of his wrist, Misha slapped away his hand, pursing his lips. He had a 'who's stupid enough to believe that bullshit' kind of look on his face. He wasn't deaf, nor was he blind. Although it had only been for a short second, worry did flash in the young man's emerald eyes, and Misha, who had been observing his expression all this time, noticed it right away. However, as he had said, he couldn't force Gabriel to confide in, so he had no other choice but to let it go.

"Anyway, can you go upstairs and wake up Masha? If she naps for too long, she won't be able to sleep tonight," grunted Misha, abruptly changing the topic.

"Sure."

Narrowing his eyes, Misha watched Gabriel walk to the stairs before shaking his head. If that guy wanted to keep everything inside, then so be it. It had nothing to do with him. But despite thinking this, he couldn't help but feel somewhat anxious deep down. In the end, he didn't move an inch for a long time, his eyes locked on the stairs.

When his mind finally cleared, Misha scoffed at himself. He slapped his cheeks, and once he felt reenergized, he turned on his heel and went to the kitchen to verify how tonight's supper was coming along. But before the boy could open the oven, he heard the phone rang again.

With a shrug of his shoulders, Misha decided to ignore it, telling himself that the caller could always leave a message after the beep. But the person on the other side of the phone didn't seem willing to do so. Instead, they kept calling back again and again.

The persistent ringing of the phone made Misha frown. After a few more calls, he finally couldn't take it anymore and consented to walk back to the living room, staring at the landline with a suspicious eye. He had a bad feeling about this phone call. Nevertheless, he stretched a hand and brought the phone close to his ear, saying, "Hello?"

Not long after he picked up the phone, Misha hung up, slamming it back into its base. Looking at it with a murderous eye, he made a face as though he had swallowed a thousand flies. Not caring about his feelings, the landline rang again, and Misha stared at it for a long time before letting out a long sigh and answering it.

"What do you want?"

"Why did you hang up? It broke my little glass heart, you know?"

"If you got nothing to say, I'll hang up again."

"Wait, wait, wait! Can you pass the phone to Gabriel? I need to ask him something."

"…" Misha inwardly counted to ten to calm down, but it was without much success, and ultimately, he still ended up roaring at the top of his lungs, "GABY, THAT STUPID FRIEND OF YOURS WANTS TO TALK TO YOU! SO YOU BETTER GET YOUR A.S.S DOWNSTAIRS ASAP!"

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