TMLOH 12

Chapter : 12

“Mom, do you love me?”

A question that slipped out one day.

I asked it with a smile, pretending it was nothing, pretending to be indifferent, joking, as if it had just popped into my head—but in truth, my heart was tight with anxiety, unsure of what answer I might hear.

I think I was scared.

I’d swallowed it down so many times, unable to bring myself to ask. But that day, I lost control.

It would be more accurate to say my mouth moved on its own.

‘What if Mom thinks I’m weird?’

But that fear only lasted a moment.

Mom glanced at me and replied casually.

“Why are you asking that all of a sudden?”

“Just curious.”

“What kind of parent doesn’t love their child? Of course I do.”

“I see.”

“Instead of asking things like that, go practice more. The competition isn’t far off.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Even as I accepted her scolding, I quietly asked again, unsatisfied with her answer.

“You do love me, right?”

“What did you think I just said?”

“Hehe.”

“Instead of wasting time thinking about pointless things, go practice.”

“Hehe. Okay.”

I remember smiling even under her disapproving gaze, lifting my bow.

I thought, So Mom does love me. That moment, I believed it.

But, Mom…

Why does it feel like you don’t love me?

No matter how often he was called a cold-blooded man made of ice, Mehen was still human—flesh and blood.

There was no way he could have raised Arelene from infancy with his own hands and not felt any affection for her.

“There, there… It’s okay. I’m here.”

But affection wasn’t necessary when caring for a child.

It wasn’t important.

After all, he was someone who could be replaced at any time…

That was why he had kept his distance.

He was merely avoiding potential future pain—for both of them.

“Hhng…”

But if he had known it would turn out like this, he would’ve quit much sooner.

Her trembling body felt far too light.

Even as he held her again for the first time in a while, it felt like time hadn’t passed at all. She was still small. Still light.

‘Why is she so small?’

He hadn’t realized—it had been too long since he’d held her.

Ever since the child-rearing team took over, he’d only occasionally seen her.

He knew he wasn’t a great caregiver, but he had at least believed he provided everything she needed.

Was he wrong?

He didn’t know. Children had always been hard to understand. Unlike business, there were no clear results, no quick decisions to make.

‘She needs to eat more to gain some weight…’

He clicked his tongue, remembering how Arelene never ate more than three bites of anything.

Even so, her trembling limbs were slowly calming in the warmth of familiarity.

“Mom…”

The girl’s small hand flailed in the air, then clutched tightly onto Mehen’s clothes.

“Mom…”

Had she missed her mother that badly?

Her voice was so sorrowful that even Mehen found himself longing for a mother he’d never known.

When he reflexively grasped her outstretched hand, her sobbing softened.

“…Mom.”

“I’m Mehen, though.”

“Mom…”

“Well, I suppose titles don’t really matter. Call me whatever you want.”

She was probably delirious with fever. What was the point of correcting her?

After giving her the medicine brought by the physician, placing the towel from the caretakers on her forehead, and holding her close to keep her warm, Mehen found himself wondering:

What am I even doing?

He had hundreds of tasks piling up.

And yet—

“Mom…”

He had no regrets.

Even though the work he postponed today would come back multiplied tomorrow, he didn’t want to leave.

“Mom…”

Maybe it was because there were already so many sleepless nights. He didn’t know.

The caretakers hovered nervously, unsure of what to do, but Mehen couldn’t spare the energy to notice them now.

The long night passed.

Dawn broke through the dark.

The nightmare always began the same way. A grand piano, left alone on stage.

Whenever I closed my eyes, I could smell the rosin I’d grown sick of. And then, when I opened them, a violin and bow were already in my hands.

Click—the spotlight lit up, and the scene changed.

A grand hall.

No audience in the filled seats. Just one person sat elegantly in the judge’s chair.

Mom.

“I hope my daughter will become…”

Mom was a beautiful woman.

That wasn’t the wistful distortion of a child idolizing their parent—it was just a fact.

She was beautiful and talented, and I was a daughter who inherited all of her traits.

“Mom believes in her daughter.”

Yes, the daughter who inherited all your gifts.

“I believe you can fulfill my dream.”

“Mom believes in you.”

“You can do it, right?”

The piano, without an accompanist, began to play. Familiar music echoed through the hall. Memories I had tried to lock away burst forth all at once.

I couldn’t lift the bow.

On a stage where only the piano played, missing the notes the strings were supposed to fill, I just stood there.

Staring at the one person.

“Mom…”

Too far.

She was too far for me to even see her expression. I couldn’t tell anything.

“Mom…”

Why did you treat me like that? What was I to you? Did you ever love me?

Do you still love me?

All the questions I could never ask were still trapped inside me. A knot of emotions I hadn’t unraveled.

“Mom…”

But more than anything—

Longing.

“Mom…”

I missed you.

“Mom…”

Will you leave?

Are you going to leave me behind again?

“Mom, Mom…”

Don’t go.

Don’t leave me alone.

“Mom…”

Please.

Don’t leave me.

I had to say it—tell her not to go—but it was like something clogged my throat. No sound came out.

All I could say was “Mom.”

Is this how I lose her again?

Left behind again?

Alone again in that awful, suffocating darkness…

“Shh, it’s okay.”

That’s when I heard it. A familiar yet unfamiliar voice. A strange hand reached out and took mine.

“Mom…”

“Yes, I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.”

Was it… Mom?

The hand patting my back was clumsy, but incredibly kind.

“Mom…”

The hand in mine was so warm, the pat on my back so gentle—it made me feel safe without even realizing it.

For the first time since these nightmares began, I fell into a peaceful sleep.

And when I woke up—

“…Huh.”

Mehen was in front of me.

“…”

“…”

Huh?

“…Mom?”

Why Mehen?

“I’m not your mother.”

I froze, buffering, completely thrown off by the last person I expected to see.

“…”

“…?”

Mehen holding me.

My hand clutching his.

…Let’s stop trying to figure this out.

“Are you feeling alright?”

He spoke in a low, tired voice. As he ran a hand through his hair, he carefully examined my condition.

His long lashes and green eyes shone gold in the morning light.

Such a delicate beauty.

Maybe it was the fatigue softening his expression, but he looked different today—gentler than usual.

“Mom…”

Was Mehen the one who stayed by my side all night?

As he reached out to feel my forehead, Mehen flinched.

“I’m a man, by the way.”

“Mom.”

“…”

I thought it was Mom.

Was it not? Was I alone again?

As tears welled in my eyes, Mehen panicked. I hadn’t meant to make him uncomfortable.

It was just…

Just that everything always broke me the same way.

“Thankfully, your fever’s gone…”

He glanced at my hand clinging to his robe and sighed.

“Mom, Mom…”

Watching me repeat myself like a broken record, Mehen frowned in confusion.

“Young lady.”

“Mom…”

“Lady Arelene.”

“Mom…”

“…Haah.”

He sighed deeply.

“Fine. What’s in a title? Call me whatever you like.”

Strange.

Why is he being so kind?

The Mehen I knew wasn’t this gentle. I thought he’d push me away—but instead, he told me to call him what I wanted.

“Mom…”

He looked troubled, but he didn’t reject me. That felt so strange it made my throat tighten.

Why?

“You don’t like me.”

“I don’t dislike you.”

“You do.”

“I… don’t… Haah.”

Looking frustrated, Mehen ran a hand roughly through his hair.

“Why would someone like me dislike you?”

“Liar.”

“It’s not a lie.”

“You scowled.”

Pause.

“You said I was a burden.”

“…”

“You wanted to get rid of me, didn’t you?”

Mehen’s brows furrowed. His hand hesitated mid-air. When I looked up, our eyes met.

In those pale green eyes, there was a strange emotion.

A twisted expression. Eyes full of confusion, and yet—trembling as if wounded.

I had never seen Mehen look like that before.

“I just…”

This meticulous man couldn’t even deny my words. Like a man standing before execution, he bit his lip.

“…Haah.”

A sigh full of discomfort.

Even though I should be trying to act cute, here I was whining instead. I sighed at how pathetic I was.

But if I was going to end up alone again, maybe it was better to be alone from the start.

Even as I repeated that to myself, my hand stubbornly clung to Mehen’s robe. Still, I said nothing.

“Young lady.”

“…”

“Lady Arelene.”

“…”

“Arel.”

“…!”

Startled by the unfamiliar nickname, I looked up.

His eyes, golden in the morning sun, stared down at me.

Still sharp, still troubled—but somewhere in them was kindness that held me still.

As I shrank back, he frowned slightly and sighed.

“Arel.”

I saw Mehen’s large, delicate hand.

A gentle, warm, awkward hand placed itself on my head.