Chapter 18
“Also, if you can’t sleep, don’t drink alcohol. Milk can help.”
“If necessary, I’ll stay until you break this drinking habit.”
Janet froze for a moment.
It was the first time she’d seen Roger talk this much.
When she finally snapped out of it, her eyes had reddened.
Seeing this, Roger immediately stopped rattling on. His tone softened several notches as he spoke cautiously.
“S–sorry, Janet. Did I say something that hurt you?”
She shook her head, unable to hold back the flood of tears.
Watching Roger scramble awkwardly for tissues,
Janet let out a teary laugh.
“No, Roger. I’m not upset with you.”
“I just realized how immature I’ve been.”
“The one who really needs care is my mom.”
“Her heart carries far more pain than mine.”
This was half the reason for Janet’s sleepless nights.
Though Rachel always appeared composed–gentle and kind to everyone
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only Janet saw the profound sorrow and despair flickering deep in her mother’s eyes.
Yet Janet couldn’t heal Rachel’s pain, trapped as she was in her own abyss of grief.
Today was the anniversary of her sister’s death.
That’s why Janet had wanted to drown herself in alcohol.
Roger’s expression turned grave after hearing Janet’s words.
“Your mother may be suffering from depression.”
“Left unchecked, the consequences could be severe.”
Panic flashed across Janet’s face. “Is… is there anything we can do?”
Roger nodded, pulling out his therapist certificate.
“If you trust me, let me try.”
After Roger’s guidance, a glimmer of hopè returned to Janet’s eyes.
She left holding the glass of milk.
Stephanie emerged from the hallway, observing how her son’s gaze lingered on the retreating figure.
She couldn’t resist teasing him.
“Thought you said those certificates were useless? Spent all night digging through boxes just for this moment?”
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Roger remained unflustered. “At least I can help Rachel now, can’t I?”
Stephanie rolled her eyes.
“Fine. I won’t expose your little scheme.”
Roger’s therapy proved effective.
Though forcing Rachel to confront the harsh reality felt cruel,
after days of swollen, tear–streaked eyes,
she began expressing genuine emotions.
At least now she openly talked about her daughter’s passing.
This sparked Janet’s deep interest in psychology.
Naturally gifted in academics and drawn to challenges,
she found her mentor in Roger.
They often spent entire days buried in books at the family library.
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Stephanie watched her son repeatedly try to chat, only to be silenced by Janet’s relentless questions.
She burst out laughing.
Elbowing Rachel beside her, Stephanie grinned.
“My son’s finally met his match.”
Rachel sighed at her friend’s obvious enjoyment of the drama.
“If you truly pity your son,” she said wearily,
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“make him give up this foolish crush sooner rather than later.”
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A mother knows her daughter best. Janet will likely never give her heart away in her lifetime.
Stephanie gave Rachel a reproachful look.
