Chapter 16%
Hestial
I am in shock, standing still, staring at the bouquet of peonies and the paper bags full of sweets and fancy gifts on my bed.
I wipe the sweat from my forehead and the tip of my nose with exaggerated flair.
“What is he up to?” I mutter, picking up the small note that came with the bouquet and rereading it for the third time. I’m so sorry for everything I’ve said and done. Lucian Ducani”
I scoff, eyes narrowing in disbelief. My mind scrambles for logic because this is not something he does. Not once has he ever apologized Even when he was wrong. He didn’t even apologize after kissing Beverly. What I got instead was an excuse. He said he was drunk He said he knew why he did it. That she reminded him of Chesca%
And now, out of nowhere, he sends this note, claiming he’s sorry for everything? For what, exactly? For accusing me of flirting with another man? For humiliating me? Or maybe because he finally received the divorce papers. Though, judging by the lack of response, maybe he hasn’t had time to open them. He’s been busy lately. Too busy.
It might be related to last night’s news. I wasn’t bothered by it, but maybe he thinks I was. Maybe he’s trying to fix things before they collapse beyond repair. Maybe this is damage control.
I glance at the flowers again. A miracle, really. How did he know I love peonies?%
I open the boxes of food and feel my stomach grumble. It’s early, and the food is still warm. I hate that it smells so good. I hate that he thought of sending me breakfast. I hate that I’m actually hungry.”
As annoyed as I am with both him and our son, I’m not about to waste food. It’s still a blessing, no matter where it came from.”
While I eat, I start opening the gift bags. My eyes widen, Jewelry. Elegant, delicate pieces. Shimmering bracelets. Beautiful earrings. Items I’ve never received from him.”
“For the first time in five years,” I whisper, “he figured out what I actually like?”
I stare at the items in disbelief. Is this witchcraft or maybe he went to a psychic just to finally get something right. Maybe someone told him what I’ve always wanted. Maybe he’s just guessing. Maybe he’s desperate.
Does he really think this will win me back? That I’ll forget everything just because he finally bought me gifts?
Let me guess. He asked his friends for advice and they told him gifts might work. They probably said women love surprises and sweet gestures. But they’re wrong about me. I have my own money. My own savings. I can buy all of this myself if I want to.”
Maybe I should send it all back.”
But then I remember, I already ate the food. I smirk.
These were given to me. I didn’t ask for them. I don’t need to return them, I don’t even owe him a thank you.%
I push everything aside and decide right then and there to spend the whole day outside. I want to roam around. I want to breathe. I want to feel something that isn’t guilt or duty or heaviness. I think this is the first time I’ve truly felt free.
No rushing home to prepare dinner. No last–minute errands. No chores. No obligations. I don’t have to care about a husband expecting everything to be done or a child waiting for something warm on the table.
This is my first real taste of freedom.
When my father died, I was supposed to leave the country. I was accepted to a program in Minnesota. That was the plan. That was my dream.
But everything changed when the engagement between the Scotts and the Ducanis was announced. My stepmother asked me to stay until my sister’s wedding. I said yes.
Then, after the wedding, the accident happened. Or maybe something else did. Maybe the doctors were right. There are holes in my memory. Because the truth is, Chesca and Lucian were already married for two years when that accident happened. But in my head, all I remember is the wedding.”
So when I woke up in a hospital bed, I didn’t understand anything.”
Then my stepmother started crying and begging. Begging me to raise my sister’s child. To marry Lucian. To take her place.
It felt like a nightmare. It felt like betrayal. It felt wrong in every possible way.”
So I don’t blame people for calling me names. For thinking I’m some parasite who just replaced the original wife. Because that’s how it looked from the outside.
And when the gossip started, that maybe I had something to do with the accident, since I was there with her, I tried to ignore it. I don’t care if Lucian believes it or if deep down he knows the truth.”
But then the rumors started to reach my son. They poisoned his heart too.
The once–loving Lorde was now distant, cold. He began to believe the lies.
And now look at us. This is where we are.
And honestly, I don’t think we’ll ever go back. Not with gifts. Not with flowers. Not with a forced apology. Not with a child’s plea. I can’t go back to the part of me that was willing to endure everything for them.}}
That version of me no longer exists.
Not anymore.
