A Love Left Behind

Chapter 21 - Seeds

Looking back, I think Leyla's greatest talent was patience.

She never walked into a room and demanded anything. She didn't tell Victor to take control of the company or openly accuse Mum of having too much influence. She didn't need to.

Leyla planted ideas.

Then she waited for other people to believe they had grown them themselves.

At sixteen, I saw none of that.

To me, she was simply Aunt Leyla. Victor's wife. The woman who always looked perfectly put together even at family lunches where everyone else eventually gave up and ate with their hands.

I didn't particularly like her.

But I didn't dislike her either.

She was family.

And in the Tan family, that still meant something.

Most of my attention was somewhere else anyway.

Germany.

Or, more specifically, one person in Germany.

Damian and I had become strangely good at living in two time zones.

I woke up to messages he'd sent before going to sleep. He sometimes stayed awake too long because I wanted to talk. We video-called while doing homework, complained about school and argued over completely meaningless things.

Some days, the distance barely mattered.

Other days, it was unbearable.

Damian: What are you doing?

Me: Studying.

Damian: You've been studying for four hours.

Me: Are you monitoring me now?

Damian: Yes. Terrifying boyfriend behavior.

Me: At least you're self-aware.

Damian: Go eat something.

I stared at the message.

Me: Alice? Is that you?

Damian: I'm serious.

I smiled.

He knew me too well.

That was becoming dangerous.

Mum noticed.

Of course she did.

One evening, she walked past my room while Damian was on video call.

“You're still awake?”

“It's not late.”

“It is here.”

Damian laughed from the screen.

Mum leaned closer.

“You. Stop encouraging her.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

I stared at him.

“Coward.”

“Your mother scares me.”

“She should.”

Mum smiled and kissed the top of my head before leaving.

Damian watched her go.

“I like your mum.”

“I know.”

“She likes me.”

“Don't get confident.”

“Too late.”

Those were the moments when I believed distance was something we could beat.

We just had to keep trying.

At the same time, something inside my family was beginning to shift.

Quietly.

So quietly that none of us understood what we were hearing.

It started with conversations.

Ellie and Leyla had begun spending more time together.

That wasn't unusual. They were married to brothers. There were children, birthdays, school events and a hundred reasons for them to see each other.

Aunt Ellie had always been kind to Mum.

She still was.

At first.

One afternoon, I was at my grandparents' house when I heard Leyla and Ellie talking outside.

I wasn't listening deliberately.

At least, not until I heard Mum's name.

“Alice handles everything,” Ellie said.

Leyla laughed softly. “Because everyone trusts her.”

“They should.”

“Of course.”

There was nothing strange in the words.

Then Leyla added, “It must be difficult, though.”

“What?”

“For Vincent.”

I stopped.

Ellie sounded confused. “Why?”

Leyla took her time answering.

“Nothing. Forget I said anything.”

That should have been the end of it.

It wasn't.

“What do you mean?”

“I don't want to cause problems.”

“You're not.”

Another pause.

Then Leyla sighed.

“I just wonder sometimes whether everyone realizes how much Victor and Vincent actually contribute.”

Ellie didn't answer.

Leyla continued carefully.

“Alice controls the finances. Victor carries the responsibility. Vincent works constantly. John and Mary still make the final decisions. It's just… complicated.”

“They're siblings.”

“I know.”

“And everything will be divided fairly.”

“Of course.”

Leyla said it perfectly.

Too perfectly.

Then she changed the subject.

That was what she did.

She never told Ellie that something was unfair.

She only made sure Ellie started wondering whether it was.

I walked away before they saw me.

And then I forgot about it.

That's the part that still bothers me.

I forgot.

That evening, Grandpa was teaching one of Vincent's younger children how to sand a small piece of wood without destroying it. Grandma was shouting from the kitchen that dinner was ready. Victor was on the phone. Mum was going through documents at the table.

Everything looked exactly as it always had.

Why would I have suspected anything?

A few weeks later, Ellie asked Mum a question during lunch.

“Do you know what will happen to the company eventually?”

Mum looked up. “What do you mean?”

“When your parents stop working.”

Grandpa laughed from the other end of the table.

“I'm not dead yet.”

Everyone laughed.

Ellie smiled too.

“I didn't mean now.”

Victor put down his glass. “We've talked about succession.”

“Not really,” Mum said.

Victor looked at her.

“We have.”

“Not properly.”

For the first time, the table became slightly quieter.

Vincent shrugged.

“We'll figure it out.”

Mum nodded. “Exactly.”

Ellie smiled.

“Of course.”

The conversation moved on.

But Leyla said nothing.

She didn't need to.

She was sitting beside Victor, watching.

Years later, I would learn that Leyla had known exactly what the Tan family owned long before she married Victor.

The company.

The land.

The properties.

The accounts.

She hadn't discovered wealth after becoming part of our family.

She had studied it before she entered.

Victor hadn't been a man she happened to fall in love with who happened to come from money.

He had been a door.

We simply didn't know she was waiting for the right moment to walk through it.

At sixteen, my biggest concern was still whether Damian would be awake when I got home.

He was.

Damian: You disappeared.

Me: Family lunch.

Damian: 20 or 400 people?

I smiled.

He remembered.

Me: Only approximately 80 today.

Damian: Intimate gathering.

Me: Exactly.

Then another message came.

Damian: Dad says we might be able to come back sooner than expected.

I sat up.

Me: How soon?

Damian: Don't get excited. Nothing decided.

Too late.

Me: Damian.

Damian: Maybe next summer.

My heart jumped.

It felt ridiculous.

We had only been apart for months.

But months were long when you were sixteen.

Me: That's forever.

Damian: I know.

Me: I hate Germany.

Damian: You've never been here.

Me: Still hate it.

He sent a laughing emoji.

Then:

Damian: Maybe you should come here one day.

I stared at the words.

Germany.

Until then, Germany had been Damian's world.

A screen behind him.

A bedroom.

A school.

Stories about Mum, Chloe, Leo and Rea.

I'd never seriously imagined myself inside it.

Me: Maybe.

Damian: That's not a no.

Me: Don't get excited.

Damian: Too late.

I lay back on my bed and smiled.

At sixteen, the future still seemed enormous.

There was time for Germany.

Time for another trip.

Time for university.

Time for Mum to stop worrying about everyone.

Time for Kaelob to decide what he wanted.

Time for Grandpa and Grandma to grow old slowly.

Time for Damian and me to figure out how ten thousand kilometers could eventually become none.

I thought time was something we had.

I didn't understand that while I was making plans for someday, Leyla was making plans too.

The difference was that hers had started long before mine.

And unlike Damian and me, she had never believed in leaving the future to chance.