The first image was a college photo of Nathaniel and Stella. They stood side by side, his eyes warm and soft as they looked at her.
The following post was a screenshot of a birthday message Nathaniel had sent Stella years ago. His words read, “Ella, happy birthday. I’ll make you the happiest person in the world.”
Then came a photo of the two of them holding hands, walking along a beach at sunset. Their silhouettes were peaceful and intimate, as though no one else existed.
One photo after another painted a picture of their shared past, each one a dagger to Cecilia’s heart. She couldn’t bear to see more. Her trembling hands quickly turned off the phone, leaving her in silence.
For the first time, the thought of giving up didn’t feel like weakness—it felt like freedom. That night, she opened her private diary and wrote a line: “I could have endured the darkness, but that was before I saw the light.”
The following day, out of habit, Cecilia prepared breakfast. Only when the clock passed six, and Nathaniel still hadn’t returned, did she remember his sharp words from the day before: “You don’t need to make breakfast for me anymore.”
She sat on the sofa, her exhaustion overtaking her. Sleep came lightly, only to be interrupted by Nathaniel’s impatient voice.
“Didn’t I tell you to stop making breakfast for me?” he said coldly as he walked past.
Cecilia jolted awake, quickly apologizing. “I’m sorry. I forgot.”
Nathaniel turned to look at her, his expression colder than the rain outside. Her soft gray dress, the same muted color she always wore, seemed to him like a symbol of defeat—a quiet accusation of his neglect.
“Why didn’t you forget to come back here?” His voice was laced with contempt. “Why didn’t you forget we got married? Why didn’t you forget about yourself? You can’t leave me, can you? You can’t let go of the Rainsworth fortune!”
Each word hit like a whip, sharp and unrelenting.
Cecilia’s voice trembled as she replied, “I never wanted your money.”
Nathaniel laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. “Really? Then explain why your mother came to my office this morning, begging me to give you a child?”
Cecilia froze, confusion and pain swirling in her chest.
Nathaniel didn’t wait for her to respond. His tone was icy as he delivered his final blow. “If you want to keep living comfortably at Daltonia Village and avoid ruining your family’s stability, keep your mother in check.”
With that, he left, leaving her alone in the silence of his departure.
Not long after, Paula arrived, her tone uncharacteristically gentle. She held Cecilia’s hand as though she were a loving mother. “Ceci, you have to beg Nathaniel. Ask him to give you a child, even if it’s through artificial insemination.”
Cecilia stared at her mother, numb and detached.
“Stella told me Nathaniel hasn’t touched you in three years,” Paula continued, her voice sharp beneath its softness.
Something inside Cecilia broke.
“I’m tired, Mom. I want to divorce Nathaniel,” she said softly.
Paula’s hand flew across her face, leaving a burning mark on her cheek. The facade of kindness crumbled, replaced by unrestrained anger.
“Who do you think you are?” Paula spat. “Without the Rainsworth name, no one will want you. You’re nothing but a useless, second-hand woman! How could I have a daughter like you?”
The words stung, but Cecilia didn’t flinch. She had grown used to her mother’s rejection, a pattern that began long before she could even remember.
After Paula left, Cecilia concealed the slap’s mark with makeup and went to a law firm.
Nelson Jenkins, her late father’s lawyer, reviewed the documents she handed him with a frown. “Are you sure you want to give Nathaniel everything your father left you? He doesn’t need the money.”
Cecilia nodded, her voice steady. “It’s not about him needing it. It’s about paying a debt I owe.”
Nelson hesitated but eventually agreed. He didn’t ask further questions, and Cecilia didn’t offer any answers.
This was the final step for her—letting go of everything that bound her to the past.
Last updated on August 20th, 2025 at 11:21 pm
