Twisted Ties of Love

Old butler James had grown quite fond of Brett, but as a servant, he couldn't rightly insist on keeping him around. Instead, he trailed behind Brett while chattering away with concern.

"You've barely rested since you got back, and now you're off again? Can't you stay a bit longer? The chefs here are the same ones we've always had."

"James, I need to get back to R City. I've already booked my flight."

James sighed heavily. Realizing Brett was set on leaving, he could only offer repeated cautions, "Just make sure to take care of yourself, alright? You've been coughing a lot and you refuse to see the doctor. Be careful."

James' legs weren't what they used to be, so he could only see Brett to the door, watching Brett drive away while standing next to Izabella.

"Ms. Salotti, you take care as well. With me not by the young master's side, I'm entrusting you to keep an eye on him. He can be rash and can make mistakes when he's upset. I can tell you're not fond of him, but his intentions in keeping you close aren't bad. He wouldn't hurt you, you can be sure of that."

"I'll take good care of myself," Izabella replied, by addressing only the first part of James' speech, which prompted an inward sigh from the old butler.

At first, James had thought Brett was just using her as a stand-in, but that morning, when he heard from the staff that Brett had taken her to the cemetery, he knew it was more serious. Brett had not only brought her home, but had also taken her to visit his late parents' graves. Clearly, he was serious.

Brett might seem aloof, but he was fiercely loyal when it came to the relationships. To be loved by Brett could be a blessing or a curse.

James, for one, considered it a blessing. To be loved by Brett meant a lifetime of devotion.

Brett's love might appear understated, yet it was impossible to ignore it's like a steady stream, not as hot as a blazing sun, but as bright as stars in the night sky which adorn the dark canvas.

Izabella knew that James wanted her to settle down and make a life with Brett. But for her, it was too late for apologies and awakenings. Broken things, even when mended, still showed their cracks. A perfect replica was never quite the original. She and Brett could never be.Content bel0ngs to Nôvel(D)r/a/ma.Org.

Back in R City, Brett headed straight to Quiet Forest Estates. The items he had ordered had already arrived. Christmas was fast approaching, and he wanted to spend one last holiday with Izabella, at least to avoid a repeat of the agony of six years ago.

"Christmas is just around the corner. Other homes will be bustling with bright reds; let's not have ours look so bleak."

Brett had purchased a thirteen-foot Christmas tree. To affix the star at the top, he would need to climb the staircase. He had bought an assortment of ribbons and lights, along with various decorations, some of which Izabella had never seen before and had intrigued her.

Izabella was reluctant to participate. To others, it was a festive holiday, but for her, spending Christmas with Brett was no different from attending her own funeral.

Indeed, that day was also the anniversary of her own personal tragedy. A funeral wasn't too far off the mark.

Noticing her impatience, Brett remarked, "The Dempsey Group is finally on track. You wouldn't want to see it fall into neglect again, would you?"

"Brett, is intimidation the only tactic you know?" Izabella snapped back, with feeling of frustration boiling over, which was undoubtedly fueled by the man before her.

Brett looked down, so that he could hide his emotions behind a calm façade, with his hands trembling slightly at his sides.

"I don't want to threaten you," he said quietly, "but it's the only way I can get you to listen to me."

"As if you're the one who's been wronged. How shameless can you be?" she retorted.

Brett's lips tightened, and he grasped a string of lights, looking somewhat forlorn and lost.

Izabella knelt down and carelessly dumped out a bag filled with various items. Brett watched her organize the decorations, with a faint smile tugging at his lips. Izabella handled the lighter items, and Brett took on the heavier tasks. Without any help, the two of them would have to work until the next day to finish the decoration.

Brett strung the colorful lights onto the tree and tested the wiring. They worked, but the true effect would only be visible at night.

Sitting on the carpet, Izabella inflated balloons with an air pump, and her fingers turned red from tying them off.

Brett joined her by filling balloons with another air pump. Despite feeling under the weather, he was stronger than Izabella and could fill the balloons faster.

"Do you remember our wedding year?" he asked while working.

"I don't," Izabella replied coldly.

Brett paused, murmuring to himself, "I remember it all too well. Our wedding room was right here. Like today, we had all sorts of decorations, mostly balloons. They covered the walls, but over time they either deflated or fell down, leaving behind those sticky white marks that were impossible to clear In the end, we had to hire someone to take care of it, and it took quite a bit of time."

Their past, mixed with the present preparations, hung heavy in the air as they worked side by side, decorating for a Christmas that was more than just festivity-it was a mosaic of memories and what might have been.