You killed him!
Mario was about to release a blow when the pickup suddenly stopped. They were already in the market, so he stepped back and jumped down. He didn’t want to become crazy in others’ eyes, although he knew he was exactly that, especially when it came to Rebecca.
The workers were still taking the crops, but a crowd had gathered immediately to buy those fresh vegetables. They had sold all the crops within an hour. Afterward, Damian told them to get into the truck, and they drove back to the farmstead.
Mario had distanced himself from them-he didn’t know what he could do if he saw how sweet they were. Meanwhile, Emerson also distanced himself from Rebecca before they arrived at the mansion.
“Oh! You’ve got back early.” Elfedio uttered as he stroked the axe against a bleeding log. “So, how’s the income?” He asked the workers who were approaching him.
“It’s great, sir; the crops were sold like hotcakes,” Damian replied as he handed the money to their boss.
“No, this money belongs to you and to our workers now.” Elfedio refused to accept the money and thrust it back to Damian. He knew that they needed that money more than him.
Emerson thought in a different way about what he saw. Did he think that because he has a very clean hand, he mustn’t accept the money that came from those dirty ones? He asked himself, but Elfedio turned back and went towards the dormitory.
At the same time, Rebecca just stared at Emerson with wide eyes. asking why he always distanced himself every time her parents were near. Or that might be just a coincidence, that he wasn’t really avoiding her.
Another day passed by, but everyone around the vast farmstead was mourning quietly. Emerson didn’t expect that yesterday when he walked down the passageway towards the dormitory.
“It was my mistake! It was my mistake!” Emerson’s mind screamed. He knew that he couldn’t see Mario in that situation if he just granted his promise, which was to avoid Rebecca.
“This is terrible! I can’t believe he could kill himself like that!” Damian cried, which deafened Emerson, especially when it came out from others’ lips that, “Mario stabbed his chest with a knife, and was found showered with his own blood!”
He knew he was a killer, but he still felt mixed emotions of sadness and remorse as he walked down the garden. Every step he took was heavy and screaming, “You’re a killer! You’re a killer! You killed him! You killed him!,” which made him firmly hold his head.
“Please, Emerson, stop blaming yourself!” Rebecca implored. “It wasn’t your mistake if Mario chose to kill himself. Because of me, he died. If we just think about it, it was mine.”
Emerson turned back and saw the sadness printed on Rebecca’s face. He got near and cuddled her. He made her lie and listened to his heartbeats as he knew that Mario and she had a lot of memories together. He warmed her as he must be the one to be strong and convince Rebecca that it wasn’t her mistake.
“Although he was sometimes stubborn and self-centered, Mario didn’t become so bad, so I’m sure that he’s now happy wherever he is,” Emerson said, but in an impelled manner.
He reflected on how cruel he had been to inflict pain on the innocent Mario; how he had only brought him sadness; how he had unintentionally taken everything from him: his work, his happiness, his peaceful life. Now he understood why he left.
Rebecca got out of Emerson’s arm but didn’t look at him. She didn’t know what to say when Mario could kill himself for her. She didn’t even appreciate everything he did.
“Stop crying, Milady.” Emerson offered her a handkerchief. “Your beauty will fade if you ponder on the mistake you didn’t commit.”
Although Rebecca already wiped the tears out of her face, the thought that Mario wasn’t given any opportunity to show his love wouldn’t set her free. She regretted not spending much time with him.Content © provided by NôvelDrama.Org.
“Milady, please stop crying. It wasn’t your mistake; we cannot predict everyone’s fate,” Emerson did his best to convince her.
“So sad that I would like to treat Mario to his favorite cafe in town. Anyway, what if you would join me to go there instead?” Rebecca invited him with the thought that she must spend time with something left.
“But your parents will be mad if we go too long.” Emerson hesitated.
“Don’t worry, we won’t be long. I just want to give myself some space, because everyone around here is talking about, you know.”
“Well, that’s not a bad idea.” Emerson took Rebecca’s hand, and they began walking down the grassy road towards the nearest cafeteria.
It was so obvious in the way they would hold each other’s hands that they were having a relationship, but unfortunately, Emerson wanted to keep that as a secret, especially to Rebecca’s parents.
“Why won’t we just tell my parents about our relationship?” Rebecca asked in a complaint. “I feel so difficult in this situation.”
“I’m so sorry, madam,” Emerson would apologize. “But what you want me to do isn’t easy for me. I’m not ready for what will be their reaction if they know the truth.”
“Don’t you trust me? They are not as strict as you think. They don’t choose whom I want to be my boyfriend.”
Emerson sighed as he stood up and stared away. Then, without saying anything, he hurriedly left the cafeteria with his prevailing ego. Meanwhile, Rebecca didn’t understand why Emerson didn’t want to publicize their relationship.
“Does he think that my parents are so bad because we are rich and they are poor?” Rebecca asked for a cup of coffee. “That’s not my mistake though.” She took a deep breath and followed Emerson back to the mansion.
“You might frequently see each other,” Elfedio insinuated as he noticed that his daughter and the head worker were walking together towards him.
“Hi Dad, I helped Emerson deliver the crops to the customer,” Rebecca said, though she couldn’t look directly into her father’s eyes.
“Why did you do that? Can’t he do his work alone?” Elfedio asked in a way that sounds like an underestimation of Emerson’s capability.
“That’s not what I mean, Dad. I just want to help him,” Rebecca defended. “We even got a lot of money from the customers.”
“Okay, so, did you sell many crops?” Elfedio asked.
“Yes, yes sir.” Emerson handed him a bundle of dollars.
He knew that what they were doing (telling lies to Rebecca’s father) was so displeasing that he even remembered where he got the money on his hand-it was also from Rebecca.
“You don’t have to give it to me; it’s already yours.”
Elfedio continued whacking the woods, showing that he wasn’t really born wealthy, because he even worked hard every day, although he didn’t need to.
However, Emerson didn’t know how to get Elfedio’s approval. Since he got closer to Rebecca, his demeanour had also changed. There, Emerson could do nothing but smile, then turned to the passageway when his phone rang.