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7.85% Rebirth: Love me Again / Chapter 17: The Gift      

Bab 17: The Gift      

Later that Night:

 

Lina had made herself at home in Cole's room, as she often did. While her twin brother sat glued to his computer, typing away in silence, she sprawled comfortably across his king-sized bed in her pajamas, babbling on without a care.

 

"I had the most exhausting day today!" Lina exclaimed, rolling onto her stomach and propping her chin up with her hands. "I got to take your place, you know? It was so tiresome!" She grinned, nudging him. "I think you owe me some compensation for covering your spot."

 

Cole didn't even glance at her, his fingers clacking away at the keys like she wasn't there.

 

Unbothered by his indifference, Lina sighed, flipping onto her back again. "Oh, by the way, did you know that Eve is really small? I mean, I'm at least a head taller than her! That totally surprised me."

 

"We're just tall," Cole muttered flatly, eyes fixed on the screen.

 

Lina's lips curled into a sly smile. "Oh? Are you defending her now?"

 

Cole's brows furrowed, the tension in his forehead almost comical as his lips pressed into a tighter line.

 

Lina only giggled more. "I don't get why you don't like her, brother. She's beautiful, and I think those rumors about her are totally bogus. At the dance, I expected her to be clingy, always bothering me about you, but she doesn't even mention you! It's kinda . . . refreshing." Because everyone was asking Cole to her like she was his personal caretaker. 

 

Still, Cole remained silent, as if the conversation was beneath him.

 

"Then again," Lina continued, her tone shifting to one of contemplation, "you don't like any women besides Mother and me. Are you sure you even want to go through with this engagement to Eve?"

 

"I don't care who it is. I just want to get it over with," Cole replied, not missing a beat in his typing.

 

Lina rolled her eyes dramatically. "If you said you didn't want to, Father and Mother would probably call off the whole thing."

 

"What's the point? It'll happen eventually. No sense in fighting the inevitable."

 

Lina let out a deep breath, staring at the ceiling. "I guess. I mean, in our family, marriage is more of a business deal than anything else. It makes sense. You already know Eve, and she's been in love with you since forever."

 

She paused, her expression growing more serious. "But . . . are you okay with it? I mean, she's really in love with you, but you don't feel the same way, do you? Isn't it cruel to tie her to a loveless marriage?"

 

Cole's fingers froze over the keyboard for a moment, a small sign that her words had gotten through, even if just a little.

 

"At least for old time's sake," Lina added softly, "you could save her from that kind of life. She's always loved you, but all she'll get in return is . . . this. A cold, distant husband. Isn't that a cruel fate?"

 

Cole sighed, finally turning his chair around to face her.

Lina blinked, momentarily stunned by his intense gaze. He was the spitting image of their father, Cain Fay, but ten times more intimidating with that brooding demeanor and sharp, indifferent tone. Cain had softened over the years, thanks to Lina's mother, Leana, but Cole? He had inherited his father's former ruthlessness, and now, he wore it like armor.

 

"Since when do you care about her feelings?" he asked, crossing his arms.

 

Lina pursed her lips, thinking. "Since just now, I guess. I didn't like her before — she was always chasing after you, and it got on my nerves. But now . . . she seemed . . . different. She doesn't even light up when she talks about you anymore. It's like she's forcing herself just to say your name. If I didn't know any better, I'd think she hated you. Did something happen between you two?"

 

Cole didn't answer, his gaze hardening as he turned back to his screen. "I'm busy. Can you leave now? You have your own room."

 

Lina laughed, rolling around the bed again. "But I like it here. Besides, it's lonely in my room. At least here, I've got you."

 

"Stop being a child," Cole said, though the reprimand lacked any real heat.

 

Their playful bickering was interrupted by a knock on the door. One of the housemaids entered, bowing slightly.

 

"Miss Lina, you have a package."

 

Lina perked up immediately, excitement bubbling in her voice. "Who's it from?"

 

"Miss Eve Rosette," the maid replied.

 

"Oh?" Lina's curiosity was piqued as she retrieved the package. As soon as the door closed behind the maid, she eagerly ripped it open, finding a small card resting on top. It read: Dear Lina, an apology for before, Eve.

 

"Apology? For what?" Lina muttered, tilting her head in confusion. "Oh . . . must be because of that incident with her maid."

 

Setting the card aside, Lina pulled out the gift beneath it. Her eyes widened in shock. It was a beautifully hand-drawn watercolor portrait of her and Dylan dancing earlier that day. The figures were captured mid-spin, almost animated in how lifelike they seemed. The delicate brushstrokes and vibrant colors gave the entire piece an ethereal glow.

 

It was . . . beautiful.

 

And Lina loved it.

 

"What's that?" Cole's voice cut through her awe as he glanced over his shoulder, noticing her excitement.

 

Lina quickly hid the card behind her back, cheeks flushing. "N-nothing!"

 

She didn't want her brother to know she'd received something so personal from Eve.

 

Of all the expensive jewelry, limited edition handbags, and lavish clothes she had ever received, this simple watercolor card was the most meaningful. It was clear Eve had drawn it herself, especially since her signature was neatly scrawled at the bottom like an artist's stamp of approval.

 

Lina had never known that Eve could draw, but then again, she didn't really know much about her at all. She had always dismissed her as just another lovesick girl chasing after Cole, but this . . . this was different.

 

Lina suddenly felt a pang of guilt. She had misjudged Eve, lumping her in with the others without ever giving her a chance.

 

Perhaps it was time to change that.

 

She clutched the card tightly, her mind racing. She would prepare a gift of her own in return.

 

 


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