Loving You Too Long

Haisley nodded with a smile on her face. Mrs. Monica had extended her hand, calling for Haisley. The girl nodded and approached her, wrapping her hand around the arm of the woman she considered her own mother.

Once on the plane, Haisley sat separately. Of course, their seating classes were clearly different. Haisley bought an economy class ticket, while Mrs. Monica purchased a first-class ticket.

However, to Haisley’s surprise, just before the plane was about to take off, Mrs. Monica walked into her class and asked the woman sitting next to her to change seats.

“Aunt, why?” Haisley asked, confused.

“I can’t sit quietly alone for hours. It annoys Haisley,” Mrs. Monica replied casually.

They fastened their seatbelts, and the journey began. Haisley chatted during the trip, and when sleep came, both of them slept.This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

Upon arriving in America, a driver was already waiting for them at the airport. Fortunately, Haisley hadn’t asked Juan to pick her up because Mrs. Monica had instructed her driver to wait for them there.

“Do you want to go straight home?” Mrs. Monica asked.

And here, Haisley was once again troubled. What would happen if she returned home? Would her parents be furious? Would they regret or blame Haisley for deciding to return to America after all her struggles?

“If you’re unsure, you can stay at Aunt’s house. Go home tomorrow,” Mrs. Monica suggested, a suggestion that Haisley nodded in agreement to.

They arrived at Mrs. Monica’s residence. The spacious and luxurious house always felt empty. This was not only because Mrs. Monica always accompanied Mr. Samuel wherever he went but also because both of her sons had not lived there for a long time. Moreover, when they were still in America, the house only became lively when Gilbert was around, often bringing his friends there.

Or if there was any liveliness, it only occurred during certain celebrations. Despite being wealthy, Mrs. Monica was selective in socializing. She chose not to associate with rich women who constantly competed by flaunting outrageously priced branded goods. This was also the reason why Mrs. Monica could be friends with Haisley’s mother.

The next day, with a fearful heart that made her heartbeat twice as fast, Haisley, accompanied by Mrs. Monica’s driver, finally returned to Kansas. The house they had occupied for the past few years after the unfortunate incident that befell Haisley when she was in junior high school. Two hours later in the journey, she was now standing at her parents’ residence.

The two-story simple house in the housing complex, predominantly white, appeared closed. Perhaps her parents were at her brother’s residence. If so, it meant they were currently in Manhattan. Haisley dragged her suitcase wearily, opened the unlocked door, and was greeted by the sight of Brigit, their household assistant who had been working with them since Haisley was little. The woman, over fifty years old, seemed to be scrubbing the bottom of the wardrobe while squatting and humming. Haisley could see her hands reaching the wardrobe’s bottom with difficulty, while her hips swayed.

“Bri!” Haisley called out to the woman. No response. Perhaps because the woman’s humming was louder than Haisley’s call. “Bri!” Haisley called again, this time accompanied by a tap on the woman’s leg.

“Oh, you little devil!” the woman exclaimed with her quirky expression. She cursed as her head accidentally bumped into the wardrobe. “Who is it?” she asked angrily, turning to look at Haisley. Her eyes widened in surprise. “Oh my God, Miss Haisley. What are you doing here?” she asked in amazement. “Oh, this is really Miss’s house, right?” She chuckled afterward. “I mean, Auntie, why is Miss here? Shouldn’t Miss be somewhere else? In London, right?”

Haisley smiled and shook her head. She chose to walk into the house while pulling her suitcase.

“Haisley is back; it’s unbearable over there,” Brigit replied casually. “Where are Mom and Dad?” she asked while looking around.

“Mr. and Mrs. went to Subang. There’s some invitation or something. They said they’ll be back the day after tomorrow,” Brigit replied, somehow instantly relieving Haisley.

The girl walked to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and then took out cold water. Leaning her hips against the kitchen counter, she began to drink to quench her thirst.

“Miss, do you want to eat? Auntie can prepare something. What would you like to eat?” Brigit asked.

Haisley closed her water bottle and shook her head. “Haisley is already full. I had breakfast before coming here. Maybe later in the afternoon,” she said, and Brigit nodded. “I’m going upstairs to rest, okay?” she added, getting another nod from Brigit.

Haisley placed her suitcase beside the bedroom door. Reluctant to open it, the room, untouched for months, remained clean and just as it was when Haisley left. All thanks to Brigit and her mother.

Haisley sat on her bed and leaned her back against the bed frame. She took out her phone from her sling bag. When she opened the screen, she wasn’t surprised to see a message notification from Gilbert. Yesterday, she had informed Gilbert about her arrival time and also about staying at Chayton’s residence. Earlier, when she was about to leave, Haisley had also informed Gilbert.

Meanwhile, thousands of kilometers away, Gilbert appeared to chuckle as he read the message on his phone. He paid no attention to the two older men, each looking at him with different expressions. His father, upset because Gilbert assisted his mother in returning to America, and Nathan, who glared at him angrily for reasons unknown.

Haisley lowered her head in the living room of her house. Both of her parents were back. Her mother was sitting in one of the chairs, while her father stood with his back to her. Clearly, the middle-aged man was holding back his frustration. After all, who wouldn’t be surprised to find out that their youngest daughter, whom they knew was in another part of the world, suddenly slept soundly in her own room without any prior notice, and declared that she would quit the scholarship she had been pursuing for the last three years.

“Are you sure about your decision, dear?” her father asked after some time in silence.

Haisley looked up, directly into her father’s eyes before nodding her head.

“But why?” The question came from her mother. “Why would you suddenly want to quit school? Don’t you value your scholarship? You’ve been studying so hard to pursue it for the last three years until you didn’t want to become a ballerina.”

Haisley looked at her mother and nodded again. “I’m sorry, Mom, Dad,” she said softly.

Her father sat on the chair and shook his head. “You don’t have to apologize to Papa. You have to apologize to yourself,” he said flatly. “You’ve worked hard to get to this point. Papa and Mama are just here to support you. All decisions ultimately come down to you. With one condition, don’t regret it later.