Vanessa Yu's Magical Paris Tea Shop - Roselle Lim Page 0,89

a disservice to you and your needs. He also lied to you by saying that he wasn’t going anymore. You deserve better. You made the right decision.”

“But it hurts, Auntie. He was such a great guy.”

The tears fell again, big droplets trickling down from my cheeks. The sobs soon followed. The logical part of me protested, saying I didn’t know him long enough or well enough. The justifications of why I shouldn’t have fallen in love couldn’t mitigate my anguish. Not even close.

Last night, I chose myself over what I wanted most. Ma once told me, “When you love someone, their love should always be more than yours, even if it’s only by a spoonful. Treat love as the most precious of gifts. Never take advantage of it. To love someone blindly is only good if that person thinks of you first, and won’t allow you to fumble in the dark.”

When my aunt’s arms wrapped around me, I cried harder and, for the longest of moments, my tears were hers. My aunt understood my anguish. Heartache didn’t discriminate nor did it decrease in intensity. The only cure was time, and knowing that my aunt had been nursing hers for years, and hadn’t recovered until now, brought me no comfort.

“Your first love leaves an imprint on your soul. You have to want to forget and, even then, you’re haunted by the memories,” my aunt whispered against my cheek. “I thought of him when I should have moved on. The autonomy of the heart and its wishes contradicts even the most obvious logic.”

“Did you foresee this with me and Marc?”

“Yes, I saw this, and I mentioned it. There was no point in dissuading you: we both know you wouldn’t have listened. Besides, why would I rob you of the experience?” She opened the cupboards to search for a particular tin to brew a fresh pot of tea. “Falling in love, regardless of whether it works out, is something everyone should experience once. Do you regret it all?”

Every moment I spent with Marc, until the end, was a joy. “No.”

“Are you going to give up on romance?”

The memories would sustain me until I learned to love again. And I would love again. I owed it to myself and my red thread. “No. I’m too stubborn to give up now.”

“Yes, you’re certainly that.” Aunt Evelyn kissed my cheek. “Choosing yourself was admirable.”

“I agree, but I wish it didn’t hurt so much.”

“There’s always a measure of pain involved in difficult decisions. One would be a fool to believe otherwise.”

The wound in my heart was undeniable.

* * *

* * *

Helping my aunt get ready for a date lifted my spirits more than I could imagine. She showed me her impressive collection of jewelry and debated between which pieces to wear before deciding on a bold poppy-red, fishtail midi dress.

“The pendant or the chandelier?” She raised a diamond to her left ear, examined her reflection, then picked up a larger, gold chandelier earring accented with diamonds. “Is this too much?”

If she wore a garbage bag with a plastic bag hat, Girard would still say she looked beautiful. Seeing Aunt Evelyn happy diminished some of my heartache. “Unless you’re changing your shoes, I’d go with the diamond pendant.”

“Then you wear the gold. It goes with your dress.” She placed the earrings in my hand.

I decided to wear a gathered crêpe de chine gown in a shade of lilac so light it was almost white. A high slit on my left side showed off the gold sandals. “Thank you for letting me borrow.”

“Tonight will be a wonderful meal. We’re going to have the chance to eat dessert this time.”

“You’ve foreseen it?” I asked. “No major disasters? Getting kicked out of a restaurant is an experience I don’t want to repeat.”

My aunt laughed. “Yes, this will be a beautiful night. Don’t worry, and enjoy yourself.”

“I never understood why you loved your gift, but now that I’m rid of it, I think I understand: it’s your means of helping people, isn’t it?”

“That’s exactly it. I have helped many people over the years.” She finished putting on the pendant earrings and moved toward the gown laid out on the bed. “That reminds me, do you remember the gentleman to whom you gave a prediction about his father?”

“How could I forget?” I had foreseen the father’s sickness and eventual death.

“He came back to the tea shop and asked me to pass along his gratitude. His father now has someone checking in on him,

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