Love over Desire

Chapter 9 The young and reckless Alex

SADIE'S POV

The loud screeching of wheels as the brakes were abruptly pressed cut through the momentum between Aunt Macy and me. The main entrance swung open, and Alex emerged.

"Alex," Aunt Macy and I called almost simultaneously. But he seemed to hear nothing, walking straight towards the stairs without acknowledging us.

"Stay here, Aunt. I'll follow Alex upstairs," I said.

"Okay, Sadie," she replied softly.

"Alex!" I called again, standing outside his room. "Can I come in?" No response came. Only the loud shuffling sounds from inside reached my ears. I tried to turn the doorknob - it wasn't locked. I pushed it open.

"I'm inviting myself in," I announced, watching him frantically toss clothes and belongings into a large bag.

"What's happening? What is this?" I asked, shock evident in my voice.

"What does it look like?" he retorted sarcastically.

"Alex!" I exclaimed in disbelief.

"If I were you," he said casually, continuing to pack, "I'd pack my things and leave. The new owner of this farmhouse and farm will be coming soon."

"WHAT?" I was stunned, unable to process his words.

"Move aside," he said, brushing past me to grab something from behind me.

"Who did you sell the farm and farmhouse to?" Anger and disappointment laced my voice. Silence was his only response.

"Answer me, Alex! Why did you sell it without consulting me or Aunt Macy?"

"Why should I?" he shot back. "It's my property, Sadie. It was never yours and will never be. You're not a Gonzalez. It was inherited to me, and I can do whatever I want with my inheritance!"

I couldn't believe Alex could say such things. Where was the sweet, loving brother from our childhood? He had disappeared the moment he learned I was adopted.

"I don't know why you've changed like this, Alex. I don't even recognize you anymore," my voice cracked with emotion.

"You know what, Sadie? You're just here to create drama. Get out of my room!" he shouted.

"Where did you use the money?" I demanded, desperate to understand.

"A racing car," he said casually.

"A RACING CAR?" I was incredulous. "You sold our family's farmhouse and farm for a racing car? Are you out of your mind? This is a Gonzalez legacy!"

He laughed mockingly. "Family legacy?" he repeated, mimicking my tone.

"Didn't you think about the farm workers who depend on this place? Where's your conscience, Alex? For a racing car? My God! What will Aunt Macy say when she finds out?"

"Why should I care about them? They've benefited from the farm for years. Their payment is sufficient," he responded coldly.

"Alex, you're impossible!" I exclaimed.

"As I said, this is my property, i inherited by MY PARENTS!" he emphasized, grabbing his bag and quickly leaving the room.

I stood stunned. He was right. I was just an adopted child. I had no claim to Gonzalez properties, especially not the farmhouse and farm.

The loud roar of Alex's racing car snapped me back to reality. I rushed downstairs and found Aunt Macy lying on the floor, clutching the bank book to her stomach, sobbing beside the torn letter from my parents. Just then, Nanay Annie arrived from town.

"Sadie, what happened?" Nanay Annie's voice trembled. Her eyes were pools of concern as she helped me calm Aunt Macy, gently coaxing water between her trembling lips.

My voice cracked, each word a fragment of our shattered reality. "Alex came... he took everything and left." The truth burned in my throat - a bitter, poisonous revelation I could barely articulate. How could I explain the complete destruction of our entire world?

Aunt Macy's voice was a wounded whisper, filled with a mixture of rage and heartbreak. "He sold the farmhouse and farm. And he even tried to steal the bank book your parents left behind," she said, her hands shaking. "I confronted him. I heard the commotion upstairs and he saw the letter. Thank God I held onto the bank book when he tried to take it. I collapsed on the floor, but I never let go. In his frustration, he tore the letter apart."

Tears threatened to overwhelm me. "I'm so sorry, Aunt," I whispered, my voice thick with unbearable guilt. "This is all my fault. You could have been hurt because of me." The self-blame consumed me like a raging fire. "If only I had followed Alex immediately when he came down..."

Aunt Macy's hand reached out, a gentle touch of forgiveness. "Don't blame yourself, Sadie. No one is to blame here."

Nanay Annie's words cut through like a knife. "That boy has changed completely," she said, her voice a mixture of disappointment and sorrow.

"He's young and reckless," I tried to defend, even as my heart knew the excuse was hollow.

Aunt Macy's eyes locked with mine, a fierce determination burning within them. "WHAT'S YOUR PLAN NOW?" The question hung in the air, charged with emotion and hope.

I straightened, my resolve as solid as steel. "I'll wait here for the person who bought the farmhouse and farm," I declared, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside me. "I need to speak with them. I WILL take back what's ours."

When Aunt Macy finally stabilized, I stood up and carefully gathered the torn pieces of the letter. Even though it was ripped into pieces, I knew there had to be a way to restore it. I quietly asked permission to go upstairs to my room, clutching the torn letter and bank book like precious artifacts of our family's history.

As I entered my room, my hands trembled slightly as I searched for something to piece the letter back together. Finally, I found a transparent scotch tape - a simple tool about to become the instrument of reconnecting our fragmented story.

Slowly, meticulously, I aligned the torn edges. Each careful placement felt like I was mending more than just paper - I was trying to repair our broken family. My fingers moved with a surgeon's precision, pressing the tape gently, bridging the gaps.

When the letter finally came together, a strange sense of wholeness washed over me. For a brief moment, it felt like I had restored something more than just a piece of paper. I smiled, a fragile, hopeful expression that didn't quite reach my eyes.

Sadness quickly replaced my momentary joy.

"Papa, Mama, Alex... he's changed so much," I whispered, hugging the reconstructed letter close to my chest. The paper felt warm against my skin.

The room around me seemed to hold its breath, filled with the weight of unspoken emotions. Photographs of happier times watched silently from the walls - Alex as a child, smiling, before everything changed. Before he discovered I was adopted. Before the farm became just another thing to be sold.

I ran my fingers over the letter, feeling its creases and torn edges. This wasn't just a piece of paper. It was a connection to my past, to the parents who had loved and treasured me unconditionally."

HAPPY READING ♥️

_TAGAILOCOSNAK