The Oldest Dream of Eternal Night
Chapter 36: Only person I ever loved… I hate her more than anything now

Chapter 36: Only person I ever loved... I hate her more than anything now

One Month Later

A Sunday Evening

The DiAngelo house was bathed in a golden glow, softened by the vintage bulb hanging above the solid wood table. The clock on the wall emitted a faint metallic click, announcing that it was around 7:00 PM. At this hour, as usual, Kaiser was already seated at the table. Upright, silent, his gaze distant. He wore a gray turtleneck, its thick fabric carefully hiding the still-fresh cuts on his arms. Only his palm—not even fully concealed by a bandage—betrayed the violence he had endured that night.

The room was peaceful. The only sound came from the quiet clinking of cutlery against porcelain. The scent of a golden gratin, placed at the center of the table, still lingered in the air. Hernandez sighed softly. Kaiser never broke the silence. He had come to accept it, but sometimes, the kid’s complete lack of spontaneity threw him off.

He glanced at his wife. Mathilde offered a warm smile, as always trying to inject a little human warmth into the equation.

"So, how are things with your friends?" she asked gently, pouring water into Kaiser’s glass.

Kaiser lifted his eyes to her, blinked, then replied in a neutral tone:

"Fine, I guess. Carter’s getting out of the hospital tomorrow."

Hernandez, in the middle of cutting a piece of meat, paused for a second.

"Ah... That’s good news. His mother must’ve been through hell this whole time. It’s hard to imagine the fear of losing your child."

A silence hung in the air. Then Kaiser’s voice, calm and sharp:

"You’re lucky. You’ll never know that kind of worry... Since you don’t have kids."

The cutlery stilled. Mathilde slowly lowered her eyes to her plate. Hernandez sighed again, louder this time. He never knew if the kid did it on purpose or if his bluntness was entirely unintentional. He leaned toward the latter. Kaiser wasn’t cruel. Just... raw. Filterless.

But deep down, Hernandez knew that despite his low emotional intelligence, the kid loved his aunt. He loved her clumsily, like someone who didn’t know how to love.

"Who would’ve thought shy Ben would end up running away with his girlfriend?" he said, trying to lighten the mood. "It even made the news."

Kaiser merely shrugged, his eyes still fixed on his plate.

"The power of love, I guess. Sabrina’s father is a tyrant—they probably thought it was their only way out."

"And what about you, Kaiser? Do you believe in the power of love?" Hernandez asked with a half-smile, hoping for a more human reaction.

The look Kaiser gave him was as empty as it was disdainful—a silent "Are you serious right now?"

"Love? It’s a waste of time."

"Oh! I see..." Mathilde said, exchanging a knowing glance with her husband.

Kaiser narrowed his eyes.

"What exactly do you see?"

"Well, we noticed Hannah hasn’t been around in a while."

He shrugged.

"Yeah. We’re not talking anymore."

"What happened?" she asked softly.

"She was too clingy... And she ended up telling me I have a shitty personality."

Hernandez winced, then blurted out, unfiltered:

"She’s not wrong."

"Hernandez!" Mathilde scolded.

"What? I’m being honest."

Kaiser, unexpectedly, nodded.

"He’s right. I know I have a shitty personality."

Hernandez gave a weak smile.

"It’s good that you recognize your flaws. Now you can work on them."

Kaiser straightened slightly, crossing his arms.

"I’m not changing my personality for Hannah."

"Not for her—for you. You know... it’d do you good to be a little more open to others. You’re not gonna marry your buddies."

Kaiser let out a short, almost bitter laugh.

"Man is a social animal, right? I should make an effort."

Mathilde smiled, thinking she’d made progress.

"The first step would be to make up with her."

Kaiser shook his head.

"No point. I’ll socialize with other people."

Hernandez rolled his eyes.

"Ahhh... You’re completely missing the point, aren’t you?"

Then he turned to his wife, feigning seriousness.

"Honey, you don’t think Kaiser might be autistic, do you?"

"Hernandez! You’re talking nonsense!" she shot back, furious.

Kaiser frowned.

"Why are you suddenly so interested in my love life?"

Mathilde sighed.

"Because you say you’re not together... But do you miss her?"

He averted his eyes.

"I don’t miss her. Well... it’s a break. She was too much."

A silence.

Then, almost against his will:

"I miss her bike. And her math exercises. But I can live without them."

Hernandez raised his eyebrows.

"You’re harsh with your words, Kaiser."

The young man lowered his gaze.

"She’s better off without me. She’s beautiful, smart. She doesn’t need someone like me."

Hernandez felt a pang in his chest. For the first time, he sensed doubt behind the barbs. The fear of not being enough. The inferiority complex hidden beneath the arrogance.

He set his fork down gently.

"You know... she might think the opposite. You should reach out."

"No. We get along, that’s all. Nobody loves anybody."

"I doubt that."

Hernandez chose not to say what he really thought: Who would bother talking to you if they didn’t love you?

But he didn’t feel like sleeping on the couch tonight.

Kaiser shrugged.

"Anyway, the only person I ever loved... I hate her more than anything now."

Mathilde studied him for a long moment, her eyes filled with tenderness and sadness.

"It doesn’t matter if you get married or not, Kaiser... or if you turn out gay..."

"Huh?"

"You’ll always be my baby."

She stood and hugged him with awkward gentleness. Kaiser, surprised, didn’t move at first—then let her.

Hernandez raised a hand.

"What about me? Don’t I get a hug?"

"You? You’re clearing the table!" she retorted, shooting him a glare.

Kaiser let out a rare, brief chuckle.

"Ouch. Think you just earned yourself a night on the couch, Uncle."

Hernandez pretended to sulk while Kaiser looked at his aunt again, thoughtful.

"You adopted me when I was ten. How can I be your baby? Maybe ’preteen’ would make more sense, no?"

Mathilde paled slightly. A shadow of sadness crossed her gaze. Before she could reply, Hernandez murmured, almost under his breath:

"You’re starting to sound more and more like Valdez..."

A silence. Mathilde rested her hand on Kaiser’s shoulder.

"You’re our son, no matter how old you were when you came into our lives."

Kaiser didn’t answer. But a faint smile touched his lips.