Gabriel sat in stunned silence. After all the coincidences connecting Clara to his sister, he now realized they shared the same tragic destiny. The only difference was that he had lost a little sister, and she had lost a big brother.
Clara bowed her head in sorrow. Mama Rosa, realizing her blunder, slapped her forehead. "Damn, I forgot... I take it back! I'm sorry, I'm sorry... just eat the pie."
But it was too late. Gabriel noticed the shadow that crossed Clara's face, a grief mirrored in his own heart.
"Actually, I came to get some flowers. I was planning to visit him today," Clara said softly to Mama Rosa.
"But you visited his grave only a month ago!" Rosa blurted out. "Enough with the grieving already."
"You know he used to take me to the movies every Tuesday... and today is Tuesday. I don't think there's a more fitting day," Clara replied with a bittersweet smile.
Gabriel sipped his tea, deep in thought. Her brother had been her best friend, just as he had been to Sarah.
"If you keep living in the past, it will only hurt you more," he said quietly, his gaze locked on hers.
"The past is what keeps me alive," she countered. "The real pain is the fact that I'm no longer in that past with him. Those were the happiest days of my life."
Gabriel hated admitting that her words applied to him too. Ever since Sarah's death, the joy had vanished from his life, leaving him drifting without purpose.
"Maybe someone will come along to make up for your brother's absence... and give you even happier days," he said, shrugging with a slight curve of his lips.
"I don't think so," she whispered, fighting back tears.
"Stop complaining!" Mama Rosa interrupted, her mouth full. "I lost my husband to cancer, and he was handsome with tattoos just like the ones on your arm!"
"On my arm?" Gabriel asked, surprised, since his sleeves were rolled down.
"Yes... I looked closely. There's ink hiding there. Show us, show us!" she said, speaking to him like a close friend.
Clara smiled; she was too tired of being embarrassed, so she chose to find it funny. To her surprise, Gabriel didn't refuse. He rolled up his sleeves, revealing muscular arms covered in tattoos. An intricate serpent coiled around his forearm, pierced with nails and splattered with blood, reaching down to his wrist where his luxury watch sat.
Clara was mesmerized. She hadn't noticed them during their first meeting. Every detail—his veins, his muscles—made the ink look incredibly attractive and masculine.
"It... it looks..." She trailed off, unable to find the words for how manly it looked on him.
"A snake?! You men have such 'great' taste in tattoos," Rosa said with mock disgust.
He raised an eyebrow, amused. "What did you expect? Pink roses?"
"Don't you have a wife? Why not tattoo her name, or her eyes... or her breasts!"
Clara choked on her pie, coughing in shock. "Stop! Be quiet!"
Her face turned crimson. She knew Rosa was filterless, but this was beyond the limit.
But Gabriel... for the first time, he didn't just smile. He laughed. A real, deep, elegant chuckle that revealed his dimples and his light stubble.
"No... I'm not really into that kind of romance," he said, catching his breath.
Despite the burning embarrassment on Clara's face, she loved seeing him smile. She was beginning to discover a side of him she never knew existed; she had thought he was just arrogant and rude.
Still, that didn't stop her from feeling humiliated by Mama Rosa's words. She stood up abruptly to escape. "Mama Rosa, give me the flowers. We're leaving."
"Alright, alright... take it easy," Rosa said, handing her a bouquet of pure white roses.
After saying their goodbyes, Gabriel and Clara stood by the car. Clara's cheeks were still flushed crimson. "I'm so sorry for everything Mama Rosa did... I'm so embarrassed. She's just a playful person who doesn't think before she speaks."
"Why are you making such a big deal out of it? I don't mind at all. I liked her... she's sweet," he said calmly, watching the way she blushed while clutching the roses to her chest.
"You are truly a strange person," Clara said with a hint of gentle wonder.
"Excuse me?"
"Never mind... goodbye," she said quickly, turning to leave. But he grabbed her wrist firmly, pinning her in place. His grip wasn't painful, but it was commanding.
"Where to?" he asked in a deep voice.
"What do you mean?" she countered.
"Didn't you say you were going to the cemetery to visit your brother?"
She nodded. "I am."
"Then get in the car. I'll take you."
Clara was stunned yet again. She had assumed he would head to work. "What?"
"Do I have to say it again? Into the car," he ordered.
She found herself obeying, confused by his unpredictable personality. He started the car and drove toward the cemetery in silence. He didn't even look at her, acting as if he were merely her driver.
"Won't you be late for work?" she asked.
"Nope," he said with a touch of softness.
"And for your family?"
"Nope..." he repeated, popping the 'p' with a slight curve of his lips.
"I mean... isn't it strange? You've spent half the day with me," she said nervously.
"I actually intend to spend the whole day with you... do you mind?" he asked coolly.
"I don't... as long as your intentions are good, not evil," she replied.
"Why would I intend evil? Do you see me as a villain?"
"You were one... I saw your villainous side yesterday. You were truly... a jerk."
"Well... I am indeed a 'bad' person, I won't lie. But that doesn't mean I don't have a heart."
Clara smiled. "We'll see about that."
"Besides, I read the worst passage in your manuscript," he added. "How did you expect me to be a 'good guy' yesterday after that?"
"Privacy!" Clara snapped with a playful glare.
"Don't shout... little girl," he whispered calmly, slowing the car down and giving her a cold look.
She lowered her voice obediently, turning back to the window. Half an hour later, they arrived at the cemetery.
Clara stepped out of the car first, clutching the white roses as she entered the cemetery. She moved through the rows of headstones until she found her brother's grave. Engraved in bold letters was the name: "Kevin Western." The dates showed he had passed away only three years ago; he was eighteen, and she was fifteen.
She knelt gently, placing the flowers on the grave and gazing at his small photo on the stone. "I missed you..." she whispered, touching the cold rock, longing for an impossible return.
Gabriel approached slowly, hands in his pockets. It was a heartbreaking sight—Clara on her knees, tears streaming down her face. This wasn't what he wanted for her.
"He was the first person to introduce me to the world of reading and writing," Clara said softly without looking back. "He used to write me poems to cheer me up when I was upset... and he brought me books every weekend."
Gabriel smiled, realizing the uncanny resemblance. "I used to bring my sister books too..."
Clara looked up, a small spark in her eyes. "Did she love reading too?"
"No... I used to force her," he said, looking down at her. "I'd always tell her: trust me, you'll love this novel this time."
A soft, gentle laugh escaped her as she wiped her tears. "That's exactly what my brother did! He'd force me.. and he'd be so happy when I actually liked it." She paused, then added quietly, "He was a good man... a good brother."
"Just like you..." she said, looking straight at him.
"Don't you notice it?" Gabriel asked.
"Notice what? That you're a good man?"
"No... that we are the same. That you are living a mirrored version of my past. We both lost someone. You are like the sister I lost... and I, perhaps, am like the brother you lost."
Clara didn't answer immediately. She searched his eyes, trying to process his words. "A compensation?" she asked finally. "I lost a brother but found another... and you lost a sister and found another?"
He let out a light chuckle. "Your explanation is terrible, but I think you get it."
Clara looked at the sunset at the edge of the sky. "On every birthday, I made a wish... that my brother would come back, or that I'd feel his tenderness and protection again."
"Maybe your wish just came true," Gabriel said.
She laughed with a mix of shyness and tension. "But you're much older... and you're a father."
"Does being a father stop me from being a brother? I was a father to my sister, too," he noted.
Clara stood up, brushing the dust off her clothes, and locked eyes with him in a long, meaningful silence.
"You look so much like her..." Gabriel broke the quiet.
"Just because we shared the same fate?"
"Beyond that... in the details. The colors you like, the cinnamon rolls... you both..." He trailed off, a shadow of grief crossing his face.
"I'm sure she was a lovely and elegant girl, since I trust anyone who shares my taste," Clara said with a smile.
"Yes, she was..." Gabriel replied with a lopsided smile and longing eyes.
Minutes later, Clara kissed the grave as a final goodbye and got into the car. The drive back was silent. Gabriel was lost in thought, while Clara curled up in her seat, hugging her bag and watching the sunset fade behind the trees and buildings.
They arrived at Clara's door, right next to Gabriel's estate. Before Clara could even turn to thank him, a furious roar shattered the silence. "CLARA..!!!"
It was her father, Victor, rushing out of the house in a blind rage, followed by her trembling mother who was desperately trying to calm him.
"Victor, stop!"
"Where have you been all this time?! You skipped half the school day! You didn't come home!" Victor bellowed. He yanked the car door open and dragged Clara out with such force that she cried out in pain.
Gabriel stepped out of the car instantly. "Mr. Victor...!"
But Victor shoved him back. "You piece of shit! What were you doing with my daughter?!"
Gabriel was stunned by the escalation, but even more by Victor's sheer brutality toward his own daughter without even letting her speak.
"Talk, you slut! What were you doing with an older man in his car?!" Victor screamed in her face. Clara cowered, trying to hide from his terrifying gaze as her mother tried to pull him away.
Quiet, lethal rage began to consume Gabriel. He reached out with a grip like iron, seizing the hand that was crushing Clara's arm. With a swift, cold motion, he forced Victor to let go.
"You are abusing your daughter.." Gabriel said, his voice flat and chilling.
Clara ran to her mother, sobbing hysterically. For a split second, Gabriel didn't see Clara—he saw Sarah. In a flash, his past came rushing back: his father beating his sister while he stood there, small and helpless, unable to protect the only person he loved.
But Gabriel wasn't that helpless boy anymore. The past would not repeat itself.
"Stay out of our lives! Don't you dare come near my daughter again! I'll call the police on you, you pervert, for taking a teenager in your car!!"
Before Victor could finish his insult, a single, devastating punch landed squarely on his jaw. The force was enough to send him crashing to the ground instantly.