The sun was setting behind the forest, casting golden light across the yard. The sun seems like playing hide and seek between trees.

  The butler, moving with grace and precision, opened the bottle of wine and poured two glasses. He handed one to Robertson and one to Elio before retreating a respectful distance.

  Elio took a sip and started the conversation . “They were really amazing,” he said.

  “I know,” Robertson replied, gazing into the wine. “I trained them.”

  Elio smiled. “ They're talented.”

  Robertson laughed, a deep, satisfied sound. “You’ve got eyes, boy.”

  “You could say that,” Elio replied.

  They sipped their wine. The warmth of the drink settling into their body as the golden light of dusk covered the landscape.

  Robertson took another sip, then let out a soft, satisfied praise. “This is excellent,” he said, tilting the glass to examine the color. “Smooth, just the right amount of bite… You’ve done well, Elio.”

  Elio smiled, leaning back slightly on the bench. “Told you. It's the best wine i had.”

  The old man nodded, then grew quiet. His gaze drifted, out toward the horizon where the sea and sky met in horizon. After a long pause, he said quietly, “Your grandfather and I used to sit right here… drinking, laughing, sometimes arguing over stupid things. This spot hasn’t changed much.”

  He paused again, this time a little longer.

  “He’s gone now,” Robertson said, his voice low. “And in a few years, maybe even sooner, I’ll be joining him.”

  Elio glanced at him, then gave a half-grin. “Knowing you, I'm hundred percent sure you’ll outlive me.”

  That drew a chuckle from Robertson. “Heh. I wouldn’t be surprised. Life has a strange , nobody know what will happen next.”

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  He turned to Elio, a softer expression on his face now. “How is everyone? Your dad, your aunt... the rest of the family?”

  “They’re good,” Elio replied with a nod. “Busy, mostly. Same as always. Dad still talks about you from time to time in her letter.”

  “I appy he still remember me” Robertson said with a smile. “I used to sneak him sweets when your grandfather wasn’t looking.”

  Elio laughed. “he definitely remembers that.”

  Robertson leaned back, letting the breeze touch his face. “It’s good to see you, Elio. You’ve grown well.”

  There was another quiet moment between them, the kind that only happens between two people with shared history, even if part of it belonged to someone else.

  Then Robertson tilted his head slightly. “So… why are you here, really?”

  Elio swirled the wine in his glass, watching the liquid catch the fading light. “I need some advice,”.

  Robertson raised an eyebrow. “Advice, huh? That usually means trouble’s already found you. Did the midlife crisis caught you early”

  Elio just gave a smile, saying nothing.

  The old man looked at him for a long moment, then gave a slow nod. “Alright then. Let’s talk.”

  Elio held his glass loosely in one hand, eyes fixed on the soft orange light spreading across the horizon. The air had cooled. Winter air with sea breeze started hitting, and the sound of distant waves filled the silence.

  He finally spoke, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful. “After Grandpa died, I came back here to take care Grandma. I didn’t want her to be alone. She used to sit by the fireplace , talk about the past, about you about grandfather like it was yesterday.” He paused, his gaze lowering. “Now that she’s gone too… I don’t really know what to do.”

  Robertson nodded slowly, his face unreadable.

  “My father wants me to help with the family business,” Elio continued. “But… I don’t want that life.”

  Robertson’s lips curled into a grin. “Then you should marry and settle down. Give your father a few grandkids and call it a life.”

  Elio gave a tired chuckle, knowing full well the old man was just trying to get a rise out of him. “You’re not young to joke around,you know.”

  “I’m not trying to be,” Robertson replied with a laughter.

  “I’m not ready for that,” Elio said. “If I settle down now, I feel like I’d regret it later. Like I’d miss something I never even got to chase.”

  Robertson gave a slow, approving nod. “You’re a good kid. None of my grandchildren are like you. They don’t even bother to visit unless it’s a holiday or they need something.” His eyes flicked toward the mansion, then back to the wine in his hand. “Taking care of an old man like me? That’s not part of their cycle anymore, I suppose.”

  He paused, then let out a low laugh. “About marriage though… I once hoped you’d marry my granddaughter. But that child is as stubborn as a mule.”

  Elio laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, I remember.”

  He could still picture the scene clearly — he must’ve been in his early twenties, just after his retirement . Robertson had, half-seriously, suggested a union between Elio and his granddaughter.

  But before Elio could even give a proper answer, she had already refused.

  “ He is weak,I’ll marry someone stronger than me,” she had said boldly, standing with arms crossed and fire in her eyes.

  Not that Elio had planned to accept. He respected the old man deeply, but marrying into the family felt… strange. It wasn’t the life he wanted. He had politely declined the idea, but apparently, even the quiet rejection had hit her pride.

  She’d stormed off that day, furious, and hadn’t stepped foot on the property since.

  “Strong-willed girl,” Elio muttered. “She hated that I turned it down first.”

  “Mm,” Robertson grunted with a smile. “She’s too much like her mother.”

  They both laughed, sipping their wine again as the light dimmed further.

  Then Robertson turned his head toward him. “So… you don’t want to settle down, and you don’t want the family business. What do you want, Elio?”

  Elio stared into his glass, watching the wine swirl slowly inside. He didn’t answer right away.