Meet the Wound

That morning Alora Zosma's apartment felt warm with the aroma of toast and freshly brewed coffee. Serena entered with a tired step, her eyes swollen, as if her mind hadn't stopped working all night.

"Is my son still sleeping?" she asked softly, a voice that almost broke made Alora turn her head immediately.

Alora just nodded slowly. He took off his apron, then pulled a chair at the dining table. "Sit down, have breakfast with me first."

Serena obeyed, sitting across from her best friend. He grabbed a glass of water and took a small sip, before taking a long breath that sounded full of annoyance. Alora looked at him intently, waiting for an explanation.

"What's wrong? You've found Yonara, haven't you?" asked Alora in a hopeful tone, as if Serena's plan that she had supported from the beginning would soon come to fruition.

But Serena's gloomy face answered before words. Her lips were stunned, her eyes were blank, making Alora able to guess the direction of the story.

"You failed?" asked Alora, her voice changing heavily.

Serena just nodded, her eyes lowered deeply.

Alora immediately let out an annoyed breath, then leaned her back against the chair. His gaze was cold, full of restrained anger. "Later in the night come with me. Let me be the one who comes forward to face your stepsister," he said sternly, clearly fed up with Yonara who kept blocking Serena.

Serena did not give any reaction to the help that Alora had just offered. This suddenly made Alora look at him with a frown and then ask, "Why else?"

Serena was silent, her eyes staring doubtfully at Alora. Her heart was turbulent, should she also tell me that last night she didn't find Yonara, but instead confronted Damien? But his mind quickly refused, seemingly unnecessary. Alora has been busy enough to take care of her son and now even accommodates herself. Serena doesn't want to add to the burden with complicated problems.

"It's okay, I can solve Yonara's problem myself," Serena said finally, refusing Alora's help in a tone that tried to sound convincing.

Alora just nodded softly, not wanting to force it. "Alright, then. Oh yes, please come with me later in the afternoon. Help me bring some dresses to send to my client's house."

Serena nodded as she devoured the Alora cuisine served in front of her. The savory taste completely filled her empty stomach, making her eat voraciously.

Alora smiled smallly, a warm feeling flowing in her chest as she saw how Serena enjoyed every bite. "This is what makes me happy, if you can eat in peace," he muttered softly, more to himself.

***

That afternoon, Serena, who took over the helm, drove Alora to deliver her client's ordered dress. The streets looked deserted, occasionally the orange light of the afternoon sun penetrated the car window, making the atmosphere in the car feel warm.

"If I may know, what dress did they order? Why so many?" asked Serena in surprise, her eyes occasionally glancing at the large pile of boxes of dresses in the back of the car.

"Dresses for weddings and receptions," Alora replied casually while tidying up her phone that displayed the destination address.

Serena just nodded. But his surprise turned into a strange feeling when the car led to an area he knew very well. His heart was beating faster and faster. Until finally, the road signage and the large fence that towered in front made Serena swallow her saliva nervously.

"Are you sure this is her home address?" asked Serena, her voice trembling slightly.

Alora nodded while showing her phone screen. The navigation she follows clearly leads to a magnificent mansion—a place that Serena knows all too well, all too well.

Serena pulled over the car and stopped it right in front of a large fence that was wide open. His eyes were glued, his heart rustling violently accompanied by a mountain of memories that he wanted to avoid.

"Wow, Aunt Alo, whose house is this? How big?" asked Charis, Serena's five-year-old son, with eyes shining with admiration.

Alora turned to the back seat and smiled, "Auntie's client's house, honey."

Charis nodded quickly and then said excitedly, "Come on, Charis help me, Bi!"

Alora chuckled slightly and then shook her head, "No honey, the box is heavy. You won't be strong. Let Auntie take it."

Charis flushed her cheeks, but didn't object.

Meanwhile, Alora turned to Serena's side who was still frozen in her chair. "What's wrong?" he asked anxiously when he saw his best friend's face pale as death.

Serena hurriedly shook her head, trying to get rid of the wave of anxiety in her chest. He took off his seat belt and took a deep breath.

Alora had already gotten off, opened the luggage, and started lifting one of the boxes. Serena was still silent, her eyes fixed on the majestic building—the mansion that used to reject her outright, the house that had once scratched the deep wounds in her heart.

"Why, Mom? Let's go in," invited Charis innocently from the back seat, making Serena wake up from her daydream.

Serena quickly touched the tiny cheek before saying softly, "Honey, you wait in the car first, just a minute. "I want to help Aunt Alora. Don't go anywhere, you just wait here. You understand?"

Charis looked at her mother for a moment, then nodded obediently without rebutting.

Serena took a deep breath. She swallowed her saliva once more before grabbing one of the boxes of dresses from the trunk. With heavy steps, he began to step in, praying in his heart that everything would go well and not reopen the wound that he had been trying to bury tightly.

As soon as Serena's feet stepped on the marble floor of the luxurious mansion, her steps stopped instantly. There was a strange vibration that spread in his chest when a woman's voice sounded so clearly from the direction of the living room.

"Yes, this is for my son-in-law. Your dress is really beautiful and luxurious, miss. I'm sure my daughter-in-law will like it," said a soft voice that made Serena's hair dim. She memorized that voice very well, the voice that had once been so familiar to her ears, the voice she had once called mother.

With a heart beating fast, Serena placed a large box on the floor. Alora, who was talking to the middle-aged woman, suddenly turned her head, as well as the woman herself. As Serena stood upright, her eyes immediately met the sharp but warm look of the middle-aged woman.

They exchanged glances for quite a long time. There are many stories that pass through the gaze—the past that has been established, the bonds that have existed, and the wounds that are still settling. Alora, who was among them, frowned, feeling that something was wrong from the silence that suddenly created.

"Serena...," the middle-aged woman called out in a slow but meaningful voice.

Serena raised her lips to form a thin smile, lowering her head slightly as a greeting. He didn't get it wrong, the woman was Weya, Damien Duff's biological mother—and in the past, an in-laws who once thought of her as her own child.

Alora's gaze instantly shifted from Serena to Weya, suspicion growing stronger on her face." Do you know him?" asked Alora, her tone full of surprise.

Weya nodded softly, turning to Alora with a look of eyes that were now hardened." Yes, Miss. He is my ex-son-in-law," he replied calmly, as if conveying a fact that was quite shocking.