Chapter 7
I lifted my head, my eyes swollen and red from the endless tears.
Summoning every ounce of strength, I shoved Alexander away.
“Alexander, who do you think you are? What right do you have to say any of this?”
“My mother, my only support, couldn’t even find peace in her final moments because of your endless cruelty. Are you satisfied now?!”
Tears streamed down my face once more, unstoppable.
Alexander despised when women cried, always finding it a nuisance.
So, in the past, no matter how intense my emotions were, I buried them deep,
dealing with everything alone.
But now, the seething hatred in my heart. made me want to tear him apart.
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The air outside the emergency room was
thick with tension.
Tristan held my hand tightly, offering silent strength.
Alexander’s eyes remained fixed on our intertwined hands. His face darkened, but he stayed silent, his anger simmering beneath the surface.
Then, the emergency room doors opened.
The doctor met my eyes and shook his head, regret in his expression.
I rushed into the room. My body nearly collapsed, and Tristan caught me, his arms strong around me as the tears flowed.
My mother reached out weakly, grasping my hand, and the weight of the pain in my chest was unbearable.
Through my sobs, I kept whispering,
“I’m sorry.”
After my father’s untimely death, my mother raised me alone, doing everything
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she could to shield me from suffering.
Her only wish had always been for me to find happiness.
But I had failed her.
And now, the weight of that failure crushed. me as I cried uncontrollably.
My mother, her eyes brimming with tears, gently cupped my face in her hands.
“Scarlett, don’t cry. I know the man standing by your side today isn’t Alexander,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.
“But I trust you, my dear. I believe Tristan will treat you well. Mom is happy.”
At that moment, I learned that Tristan had knelt by my mother‘ s bedside for an entire night before the wedding, vowing his love and commitment to me.
My mother placed my hand in Tristan‘ s and closed her eyes, a peaceful smile touching her lips.
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At the doorway, Alexander stood, watching the scene unfold with a pale, stunned expression.
I didn’t acknowledge him. As I passed, he reached out and grabbed my hand, his voice thick with regret.
“Scarlett, I really didn’t know your
mother was this ill. Madeline has a doctor friend who told me your mother wasn‘ t in any immediate danger, but I…”
For once, Alexander, the man usually so proud and composed, was stumbling over his words, trying to explain himself.
I should have felt something, perhaps even a sense of vindication.
But all I felt at that moment was scorn..
I wrenched my hand away. “So what? Does it really matter now?”
“This isn’t about what you didn’t know; it’s about what you never cared to
understand.”
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“Alexander, when you chose to believe Madeline instead of me, everything between us ended completely.”
His tall frame swayed slightly, and he frowned, clearly confused.
“Does it matter so much whether I believed you? I never truly blamed you…”
***
It wasn’t until the clock struck midnight that my mother took her final breath.
Deep in my heart, I knew it was her last act of love for me.
She didn’t want my wedding anniversary to also be the anniversary of her death.
Throughout her illness, she had gently prepared me for this moment, ensuring I wouldn’t be consumed by grief when the time came.
Standing before her grave, I clutched Tristan’s hand tightly in return.
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Alexander appeared only once during the funeral, lighting incense for her, and then vanished, never to be seen again.
Once everything was settled, I turned to Tristan and finally poured out all the doubts that had been gnawing at me.
Like what his cousin had said.
Like the wedding dress.
And what my best friend had mentioned about him remaining pure for me.
As I spoke, Tristan’s ears flushed
crimson.
He met my gaze with a sincerity that melted my heart and, with a quiet sigh,
took out a stack of weathered letters from a
safe.
The maple leaf emblem on them was unmistakable.
I knew those letters well.
T
When my mother first fell ill, I was
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overwhelmed, drowning under pressure, struggling to stand on my own.
It was during the darkest, most painful.
time of my life that I received a letter.
