It’s Your Turn To Cry and Beg, Dear Uncle

"That looks beautiful, Miss." The butler, Mr. Roman, complimented the young lady who was decorating a tiramisu cake on the kitchen counter.

Although the cake was a lot simpler than what the estate chef was capable of, it still looked good with bits of coffee beans and a sprinkle of cocoa powder on top of it. Kyra had also used the piping tips skillfully to make some roses.

Looking at the well-adorned cake, Kyra felt absolutely accomplished and confident that James would love it. After all, she had gone all out this time and used only the best ingredients to make this tiramisu cake. She poured everything in her to this one gamble.

Yes, a gamble.

Even now, she could feel her grip on the kitchen counter wavering and her legs were losing strength. Her heart was pounding non-stop. Despite how successful this cake turned out to be, her anxiety had easily devoured everything.

"I hope my brother likes it," Kyra murmured, staring absentmindedly at the cake.

Mr. Roman knitted his eyebrows when he heard how the young miss had addressed his master. He knew Mr. James would definitely correct her if he was here.

The old man sighed. "Miss, Master James won't like it if you call him brother."

Kyra casted a long side glance at the old man before returning to her cake. She humped. "But, we're only 10 years apart. We're more suited as brother and sister. God, not even siblings suit us since we're not blood-related."

"Miss!" Mr. Roman exclaimed in surprise. "Why would you say that? Master James has been taking care of you since you were ten. You're already his family, our family. Master James will be upset to hear this."

Kyra bit her lower lips. She knew that Mr. Roman would misunderstand and this only further saddened her. She wasn't denying James' role in her life. But, she didn't want him neither as a brother nor as an uncle as James presumed himself to be.

She wanted more. And no, it wasn't just an admiration or a wrong interpretation. In fact, she had once hoped that it was all wrong.

For three years, she tried to deny it, erase it, destroy it, but nothing worked. Instead, she only dreamed more, desired like she had never before, and burnt from even just a word from James. She only fell deeper and deeper to the point that one day, it was no longer brother James or uncle James, he was just 'James' to her.

That was when she realised she wasn't able to see anyone else but him. She wasn't blind but close enough.

Mr. Roman held both of Kyra's shoulders and bent slightly to even their height. Kyra was able to see his kind eyes as he sincerely told her, "No matter what, Miss, you are the master's family. You don't need to be blood-related to be one. He already treats you like his own niece."

Kyra felt her heart break at the word niece. How she hoped that she had wasted away in an orphanage instead.

When her parents had passed away from an accident and she was the sole survivor, watching as the flame burst through the engine, she thought the fire had also eaten her heart clean.

But, here she was with a different kind of feeling. A feeling that she believed was immensely poisonous yet intoxicating at the same time. Did she like it? Well, nobody loved losing control of oneself. Unfortunately, there wasn't a switch that she could turn off or a candle that she could blow away to kill this emotion.

So, she had no choice but to face it.

"I know." Kyra put her hand on top of Roman's wrinkled one and rubbed it slightly to assure him with her lie.

"I have to get ready now. The party will start soon. Can you help me put this in the fridge?"

Mr. Roman smiled as he picked up the cake. "Of course, Miss. We'll do it just like in the past."

Kyra nodded. She could only hope everything went smoothly. So, the young woman hurriedly went to her room and got ready for the evening party that would be held in the back garden of the estate which was well-known as the garden of wisteria.

The white and violet wisteria hung beautifully among the trimmed bushes, lining the pathway to a swan pond which James had built because the young Kyra had once regularly visited the downtown park just to watch a swan couple.

It was infamous among the upper class circle in the capital city. The story added to the garden's charm and since then, the people called James' estate Wisteria Manor.

Every year when they visited the place for James' birthday party, they would always be astounded by the garden's beauty, especially the women. They all dreamed of living in the castle-like manor, although the number one reason was still because of James.

A wealthy and dashing gentleman with absolute power in the capital. His cold demeanour and sharp temperament in business only made the man even more desirable.

By six in the evening, Kyra could faintly hear the crowd from her bedroom on the second floor and some people in the living room of the first floor. Her heart thumped nervously as the noise grew louder and louder.

She looked up at the mirror and saw herself in a lustrous ivory dress. The lace bodice lined her curve gracefully and the skirt sparkled at every move, creating a beautiful illusion under the starry night. She didn't have to imagine it to know that it would look absolutely gorgeous under the wisteria trees.

Kyra chuckled half-heartedly. James always knew what looked best on Kyra. He always knew…

She exhaled a long exasperated sigh before she turned around and headed towards the door.

****

"Kyra!" One of the wealthy ladies called out to her. It was Mrs. Jones. She had conversed well with her in the past. The middle-aged woman loved fashion the most. In fact, she even thought of creating her own brand.

"Mrs. Jones," Kyra greeted back as she received Mrs. Jones friendly hug.

"My gosh! Your gown looked lovely!" She praised her generously before leaning closer to whisper, "Is it chosen by Mr. James?"

Kyra smiled curtly and nodded. This response made Mrs. Jones even more giddy. "Good gracious. He's not only excellent in business but also possesses impeccable taste, and a good uncle too. I guess I understand why my niece keeps talking about Mr. James."

Kyra pursed her lips. Now, those were the two words that she hated the most: 'uncle' and 'niece'.

"Well, excuse me. I think James is about to return…"

Before she could finish her sentence, Mrs. Jones could already guess what she was about to say. "Ah, the cake! I can't wait to taste it! Hopefully I'm as lucky as I was last year. Go on!"

Mrs. Jones winked at her in anticipation. Apparently, the woman was too excited to notice that Kyra had called James without any title. Kyra kept her smile as she walked towards the kitchen. Roman was already waiting with her cake.

"Let's go, Miss," said Roman as he handed the cake over to Kyra.

That was when they heard the sound of James' car parking at the front door. Kyra smiled at Roman even though deep down her heart was about to leap out of her ribcage.

They waited for a moment as Kyra listened to the sound of James' oxford shoes clacking away on the marble floors across the living room. However, what made Kyra's heart slam against her chest for a second was the man's footsteps were accompanied by another sound that she assumed to be a pair of high heels.

Who?

But, as she wondered about it, a few other sounds of footsteps echoed along. Kyra breathed a sigh of relief as James probably encountered other guests on his way in.

Kyra mocked herself for being too paranoid. Perhaps it was because she had come to accept her feelings so she was especially sensitive.

"Let's go!" Kyra said, "I think he has already arrived at the garden."

So, both of them went out of the kitchen and went straight to the garden.

Yet, as soon as she arrived, the sound of handclaps engulfed the whole scene. They were ringing in her ears, loud and deafening. Her smile froze and so did her entire being.

"Go on, baby, make a wish and blow out the candles!"

The woman's cheerful voice stung her ears, but the word 'baby' made her stomach turn for the worse. Kyra stood there as she watched the woman linked arms with James.

When the man followed her demand and blew the candle, the cake on Kyra's hand fell at the same time.