Page 74 of The Price Of A Heartbeat

"What?" I uttered in a state of genuine shock, the revelation from Aunt Mary leaving me utterly dumbfounded.

"I understand you're surprised, but you know I won't be with you forever," Aunt Mary said, her words laced with a tinge of sadness.

I sighed, feeling a sense of annoyance creeping in. "Enough, Aunt. Your constant reminders are getting depressing," I said, trying to hide the frustration in my voice. Finally, I gathered the courage to face her directly. "You know I need you, Aunt."

She shook her head gently. "But I have to live my own life, Dax," she replied firmly.

"You can't leave now, especially when I feel trapped in this situation," I said, my emotions threatening to overwhelm me. I had been trying to hide them for so long, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.

"Dax, I know you need me, but I need to go," Aunt Mary said, her voice filled with determination.

"But why? Why?" I almost yelled, unable to contain my frustration any longer.

She looked at me with a mixture of sadness and understanding. "Because I have finally found the love of my life," she said, her words taking me by surprise.

"What?! You're getting married?!" I exclaimed, my jaw dropping.

Aunt Mary nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Yes, Dax. I am."

"How long have you known?" I asked, my mind racing.

"Since last week. I wanted to tell you..."

"But you didn't..." I trailed off, feeling a pang of hurt.

"I'm telling you now, Dax," Aunt Mary interjected, her voice laced with a hint of hurt. "I thought you would be happy for your Aunt. I mean, I've been living with you for eight years now..."

"I am... I'm just shocked that I'm finding out now!" I said, trying to compose myself. "So I guess that explains why you're leaving..."

Aunt Mary nodded solemnly. "Yes, Dax. As much as I want to stay, I just can't..."

"I understand that you believe in finding your own prince charming," I said, my voice echoing my mother's words from one of her beloved stories.

"And you, my dear nephew, deserve your own princess," Aunt Mary chimed in, returning the compliment.

I couldn't help but feel a wave of sadness wash over me. "I highly doubt that," I replied, my words heavy with despair.

Aunt Mary questioned, her eyes filled with concern, "Why? Don't you believe you deserve to find your dream princess?"

I sighed, my voice tinged with resignation. "It's just a dream, Aunt Mary. That's all. Not something that can ever be realized in reality."

Aunt Mary's brow furrowed, her expression one of disappointment. "Oh, Daxson. I suppose you're not a believer, then."

I stood my ground, my tone firm. "Well, I don't believe in something that simply isn't real."

With a gentle sigh, Aunt Mary pressed on. "So you don't believe in the possibility of finding your own princess?"

I shifted uncomfortably. "That's correct. Could we perhaps refrain from discussing this further? It only brings me discomfort," I requested, the reminder of my mother's fairytale-like stories and the false hope they instilled in me striking a chord.

The only princess I had ever believed in turned out to be my soon-to-be stepsister, a cruel twist of fate that left me feeling even more cursed in my pursuit of love. It seemed as though destiny itself was working against me, leaving me resigned to a perpetual state of sorrow.

Aunt Mary's face brightened, a blissful smile lighting up her features. "Well, I should be on my way now," she said. I silently hoped that whoever she was marrying would bring her the happiness she deserved.

Never in my wildest dreams did I anticipate Aunt Mary finding love or having children at her age, but her unexpected journey reminded me that age is merely a trivial detail when it comes to matters of the heart.

The news that Aunt, the person I cherished deeply after the tumultuous eight-year separation and horrendous finalization of my parents' marriage a few years ago, was drifting away from me felt like a prophecy fulfilled. Like my premonitory dreams and destiny had aligned to foreshadow this wearying future.

She had been my confidante, my sanctuary in the darkest hours, and a shoulder to cry on. Watching her distance herself, leaving me alone in the desolate night, was enough to make me want to surrender to the tears threatening to burst forth.

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