Do You Still Love Me When We Meet Again? (Aubrey and Damon) novel Chapter 58

Chapter 58

Layla rolled her eyes at Brendan, then moved her foot away slightly.

Brendan stretched out his leg again, intending to kick his mother, but she dodged him before he could make contact. Impatient, he cried out, “Mom…“.

The drawn–out cry, its last syllable lingering, caught the attention of Lawyer Henderson and Aubrey.

Lawyer Henderson looked puzzled, but Aubrey knew exactly what that drawn–out “Mom” implied.

From the time they were kids, if Brendan wanted something Aubrey had and couldn’t get it himself, he’d use that whiny, put–upon tone to call for their mom. And without fail, their mother would indulge him, taking whatever it was from Aubrey and handing it right over to him.

The most classic line always followed: “He’s your younger brother. As the older sister, you have to give in to him.” Having grown accustomed to getting whatever he wanted, Brendan believed everything good in the house was rightfully his.

Before Aubrey could even speak, her mother, for a rare change, shot Brendan a glare and snapped, “Calling Mom won’t help this time.”

Brendan clenched his fists in a fit of rage, letting out a frustrated scoff before turning to Aubrey. “Sis,” he wheedled, his voice laced with false concern, “you’re still young. You’ll have countless opportunities to make a fortune down the line. Mom struggled to raise you, and now she’s old. Wouldn’t it be better to just give the house and the money to her, so she can enjoy her golden years…”

Before he could even finish his sentence, Aubrey snatched up the black fountain pen from the table and, without a second’s hesitation, scrawled her signature across the document.

Brendan’s voice died in his throat, his face instantly turning ashen.

Chloe stroked her prominent belly, her lips pursed, and her voice dripped with bitter, cold jealousy. “Well, isn’t that just perfect? Now Aubrey has her own house and car, so she won’t have to live off us anymore.”

Live off them? Aubrey didn’t have time to deal with Chloe right now.

After signing, she handed the documents to Lawyer Henderson.

Lawyer Henderson put the documents away, then turned to Layla. “Ms. Johnson, please hand the bank card to your daughter.”

Layla immediately stood up, went into the room, and retrieved the bank card.

Brendan craned his neck, his eyes wide and fixed on the card.

“I don’t know the PIN for this card,” Layla said, handing it to Aubrey. “Do you?”

Aubrey took the bank card and nodded.

“Mom, you had a bank card with a million dollars on it,” Brendan muttered, his voice low. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Layla’s face instantly hardened, and she rolled her eyes at him again.

Lawyer Henderson gathered his documents and stood up. “Ms. Hayes, I’ll finalize the paperwork and be in touch. That’s all for today; I’ll be heading out now.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Aubrey said, rising to escort Lawyer Henderson to the door.

The moment Lawyer Henderson was gone and the door clicked shut, Aubrey spun around, her face frozen as she turned to Chloe. Her voice was sharp with frost. “Chloe, what exactly do you mean by ‘living with us“?”

“This house rightfully belongs to my husband,” Chloe declared, her tone arrogant, a smug look plastered across her face. “I’m not wrong.”

Aubrey scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “My parents aren’t dead yet, you know. How does that automatically make this your husband’s house?”

Chloe’s chin jutted out defiantly, her voice brimming with self–assurance. “My husband is their only son. If Mom and Dad don’t give it to him, are they going to give it to you?”

Aubrey pressed her lips together, a bitter line, and turned her head to look at Layla, who stood silently beside them. “Mom, shouldn’t you say something?”

Layla managed an awkward smile, a hot flush rising up her neck. She felt utterly trapped in her current predicament, forced to placate. “Whether it’s a son or a daughter, it’s all the same,” she gushed, her voice cloyingly sweet. “Whoever is most devoted to their parents, that’s who this house will go to in

the future.”

The moment the words left Layla’s lips, Brendan and Chloe froze, their eyes wide with utter disbelief.

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4 Chapter 58

Heard that? It’s not even yours yet.” Aubrey said, turning back toward her room.

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From the moment her mother spoke those words–Sons are for old age; daughters are always destined for another family–she finally understood her

mother’s true mindset.

After years practicing law, she’d seen enough of humanity’s ugly underbelly to know exactly how those traditional women operated–the ones who clong to the ‘sons for old age‘ mentality.

They were shortsighted, drawn to power, and at their very core, utterly selfish.

Their own self–interest was always their first and only love.

When her daughter was struggling and poor, the mother naturally wanted to marry her off fast, take the marriage money to help out her son, ensuring he’d treat her better, and she wouldn’t face a desolate old age.

But if reality shifted, and the daughter became wealthy, her capabilities far surpassing her son’s, their tendency to gravitate towards power would become glaringly obvious. The scales of their affection would slowly begin to tip, favoring the one with money.

And now, this belated maternal love would gradually swell, directly proportional to her abilities and wealth.

Tragic, yes, but undeniably real.

No one else in the world would ever love her as selflessly as Damon, giving everything without expecting a single thing back.

Damon could have easily had his lawyer discreetly transfer these assets to her. If she refused them, they could simply be passed on to her family instead.

But Damon just had to make it a whole ordeal, insisting her mother hand it over while the entire family watched, making her sign to accept it.

It was clearly a blatant attempt by Damon to secure Aubrey’s standing in the family, leveraging material advantages to curry favor with her

They were broken up, he was gone, and he was still paving the way for her.

How was she ever supposed to let go?

parents.

Aubrey closed the door behind her, sinking onto the edge of the bed. With trembling hands, she clutched the Aang toy lying there, closing her wet eyes and pressing her face into its soft form.

Her tears soaked the Aang toy’s plush. Sobs wracked her heavy shoulders, and her throat seared, a raw, burning ache.

Outside, the blazing sunlight poured into the room.

But Aubrey felt as though an opaque, hazy pane of glass separated her from the world, leaving her cold and distant. A shapeless mist coiled around her, suffocating her with its embrace, making her feel drained, helpless, and heavy with sorrow.

This feeling, this suffocating dread, surged like a relentless tide, overwhelming her, dragging her down into grim, deep waters. She felt herself drowning, gasping for air that would never come, as if she could never claw her way back to the surface.

In the days that followed, Aubrey didn’t move out. She remained in her family home.

With so many people around, she was afraid her condition would worsen if she lived alone.

Her mother’s attitude toward her became increasingly kind and affectionate.

Conversely, Brendan wasn’t as favored anymore.

Chloe, pregnant and with unstable hormones, was an internet–addicted teenager who had dropped out of school early. Her mindset mirrored her mother’s, and the two often bickered over incredibly small things.

When his wife and mother argued, Brendan, meant to be the intermediary, always washed his hands of it, hiding or escaping whenever he could.

In this chaotic household, Aubrey never participated in their arguments, nor did she ever mediate, choosing instead to ignore them.

She was very cooperative with her therapist’s treatment, taking her medication on time and meeting weekly for talk therapy. Her physical symptoms decreased and gradually stabilized.

Her work was demanding, but she still often suffered from insomnia.

Every morning, the simple act of getting out of bed felt like an insurmountable task, demanding monumental effort. It was akin to prying open a heavy stone coffin, her energy terrifyingly depleted. She dragged herself through a painful, internal battle just to face the day.

When others laughed wholeheartedly, she would offer a polite, practiced smile.

But inside, she was utterly numb, devoid of any genuine happiness, unable to grasp what there was to celebrate.

Chapter 58

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When conversations flowed easily around her, she could contribute her thoughts, engaging in seemingly normal interactions with colleagues and

friends.

Yet, only she knew the truth in the quiet, unobserved corners of her life, she was so profoundly exhausted. So tired, she couldn’t summon the energy for a single word; so tired, inexplicable tears would simply stream down her face.

Sometimes, she’d break down and sob, yet even then, she couldn’t pinpoint the reason, All she knew was the crushing weight of misery.

Even when she secured victory after victory for her clients, the outpouring of gratitude–the heartfelt words, the tear–filled eyes, the looks of deep appreciation could no longer touch her. Her heart remained completely unmoved, a still, dead calm. She would manage a polite, stiff smile and offer few empty words of encouragement.

This respectable version of herself felt like a stranger wearing her face, not the real her.

She used to not understand what it meant to be an empty shell, a mere puppet.

Now, she knew it profoundly.

Life had lost all meaning; she didn’t even know why she was alive anymore.

She looked at the world, at landscapes, at people and things, but felt nothing. She was so numb that even when her mother fell ill, there was no pain, just a dull sense of duty and obligation.

The day her mother fell ill was, coincidentally, the same day her sister–in–law gave birth.

When the nurse came out holding the baby and announced it was a girl, she suddenly fainted.

She assumed her mother, with her preference for boys, had been so enraged she’d fainted.

H

But that wasn’t it. From that day on, her mother began to run mysterious fevers. She’d be hospitalized for days, finally discharged after the fever broke, only to spike a fever again a few days later.

Blood tests, bone marrow biopsies, and countless other examinations all failed to uncover the cause.

Chloe’s mother arrived to help her through her postpartum recovery.

Brendan had always been lazy, addicted to the internet, and unemployed. At home, he neglected his wife and newborn during her postpartum recovery, and at the hospital, he didn’t care for his sick mother either. Every day, glued to his phone, he streamed live, spouting endless nonsense while gaming.

Aubrey ran between the law firm and the hospital daily, working while caring for her mother. When she was too busy, she hired a caregiver to look after her mother at the hospital.

Eight P.M.

Aubrey finished a full day’s work. She hadn’t even had time for dinner. By the time she rushed to the hospital, Layla was sobbing in her bed.

Aubrey walked into the hospital room, her gaze falling on Brendan, who was completely engrossed in his game beside the bed.

“What’s wrong with Mom?” Aubrey asked.

Brendan didn’t even lift his eyes, his fingers flying across the screen. “So dramatic, always crying, crying, crying… Get to lane, come on, get to lane, you idiot! Goddammit, you’re useless! Do you even know how to play?”

Aubrey’s eyes darkened. She set her bag down and went to Layla’s side, pulling back the blanket that was covering her head. Layla was curled into a ball, sobbing.

“Mom, what’s wrong?”

Layla sobbed, “I don’t want to get treatment anymore. I want to go home. Just discharge me.”

Aubrey felt a wave of helplessness, her heart heavy with exhaustion. “You’ve been having recurring fevers, and we still haven’t found the cause.” “How many times have they checked me?” Layla turned to Aubrey, her gaunt face exceptionally pale, her sunken eyes brimming with tears, her lips dry and cracked. “They keep doing tests and can’t find anything. More blood draws, bone marrow biopsies, contrast scans, X–rays–they’ve poked and prodded me from head to toe a dozen times! I can’t take this anymore!”

“If you keep running a fever and it’s not controlled, you could die.”

At the mention of death, Layla instantly panicked. Propping up her frail body, she slowly sat up. “Maybe it’s not sickness,” she whispered, her voice reedy. “I got sick right after that baby was born. Could she be jinxing me? Is our fate tied together somehow…”

Aubrey bristled with anger, sharply interrupting, “No! Don’t think about all that superstitious nonsense.”

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“Then why such a coincidence? Layla was terrified of death, covering her face as she sobbed. “The hospital can’t find anything. What if we find a spiritualist to see if something is messing with me?”

“Stop venhinking.” Aubrey said, rising to her feet. “Tll go talk to the attending physician again.”

As she spike, she walked out, glancing at Brendan, whose mouth was full of foul language. The game sounds were blasting, and he was constantly cursing, this was hardly how you cared for a patient.

You can go home,” she told him. “I’ll take care of Mom tonight.”

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Brendan shifted in his seat. “I’m not going back. My wife and mother–in–law will chew me out, and they won’t even let me play games. One minute they’re yelling at me to make formula, the next they’re telling me to change diapers. It’s driving me nuts. Taking care of Mom here at the hospital is way more comfortable,”

No responsibilities, no demands, just slumped here, glued to his game. How could he not be comfortable?

Ger out,” Aubrey roared, startling Brendan. He looked up at her, utterly bewildered.

Aubrey’s voice was icy. “I told you to get out. Did you hear me?”

“I’m staying to take care of Mom! What gives you the right to tell me to get out?” Brendan shot to his feet, a fierce expression on his face.

“Because you’re disturbing Mom’s rest.” Aubrey pulled out her phone. “I’ll give you three seconds, or I’m calling your mother–in–law to personally come to the hospital and drag you home.”

Brendan gritted his teeth, his finger shaking as he pointed at Aubrey’s face. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Just as she was about to dial, terror seized him, and he slammed the door shut, fleeing the room.

The ward instantly fell silent once Brendan was gone.

“Mom, please get some rest. I’m going to talk to the attending physician.”

Layla wiped her tears and nodded.

Aubrey found the attending physician and discussed her mother’s condition.

The attending physician was at a loss, too.

Months of tests and treatments had yielded no improvement. They couldn’t find the cause, the inflammation persisted, and her fevers kept returning.

Now, the inflammation had spread, affecting various organs and causing multi–organ failure.

If they didn’t find the cause soon and treat it effectively, she would die from organ failure.

As she heard these words, an inexplicable chill spread through Aubrey, followed by a surge of fear.

This fear stemmed from the crushing realization that she had virtually no family left.

Her father was in prison, not getting out for another two decades. And her brother… they shared blood, but that was it. There was no real bond, no affection between them.

Even though her mother was biased towards sons, had always doted on her brother, and been incredibly harsh with Aubrey,

she was still flesh and blood, and Aubrey knew her mother held some genuine affection for her daughter.

If her mother passed away, Aubrey wouldn’t even have the responsibility or obligation to care for her in old age. Living would lose even more meaning.

She was also afraid that without even this last thread connecting her, her depression would easily claim her life.