6.

Avery’s POV

The Wellesley estate was more than just a home to the Wellesley family. It was a grand, architectural masterpiece that had stood for generations. It was a symbol of power, wealth, and legacy.

When Avery had woken up from her coma seven years ago, she had returned to the Wellesley home. But for some reasons unknown to her, she had never felt like it was home to her. Like she belonged there.

She was never comfortable staying there, especially knowing how it’s occupants felt about her. After a while, she couldn’t take it anymore and had left with the boys for the states.

The grand halls and sprawling gardens whispered stories of past generations, of names that held weight in high society. The towering marble columns, and crystal chandeliers hanging down from the ceiling spoke of old money and deep-rooted tradition.

The Wellesley family was by no means a small family. They were well known and their influence ran wide. Wellesley publications was a media power house that was run by the family and she had carefully kept herself away from the company.

Tonight, the estate was filled with distinguished guests, all gathered to celebrate Grandfather Wellesley’s 80th birthday. This was one of the reasons why she had returned back to the states earlier than she had planned.

Grandfather had told her that he wanted the boys to be around for the celebration. She knew what it meant. He was introducing them to the world as his successors. She didn’t need to be told, they would take over the company one day, when they grow up.

Avery had learned long ago that events like these were more about business and legacy than celebration. Every glance, every smile, every whispered conversation had layers of meaning beneath the surface. And as much as she tried to blend in, she always felt like an outsider in this world.

Still, she was here, for Neal and Noel. This was the world they were born into and until they were old enough to make a choice of whether they wanted it or not, she wouldn’t keep them away from their birthright.

Henry would have also wanted his son’s to be recognized just as he was too.

Her sons walked beside her, their small hands tucked into their pockets, dressed in perfectly tailored suits. She had planned to get them fitted into new suits, but when it didn’t go as planned, she had to let them wear one from their wardrobe.

The boys looked nothing like Henry; not from the pictures she had seen, at least. Grandfather had told her that they looked like him when he was younger, but she doubted it because she has seen his pictures and there was no resemblance except for the color of their eyes.

She couldn’t even recall his face clearly due to the amnesia she had suffered, seeing only vague images of someone she assumed was him in her memories. How could she have forgotten the man she was married to and perhaps loved.

But regardless of their lack of resemblance, they were Henry’s. Their bloodline alone secured their place in the Wellesley family.

But hers? That was always in question. She knew she wasn’t welcomed in the family. She knew how the Wellesleys viewed her. She was tolerated, not welcomed.

Maybe they had been against her marriage to Henry in the first place, because she didn’t understand why Henry would keep her from his family and only revealed her identity in his will after his death.

Avery moved through the crowd with the twins, her hand resting lightly on Neal’s shoulder as Noel walked beside them. The boys, dressed in their crisp suits, were the very image that grandfather Wellesley wanted to portray; He had heirs and they looked the part.

It was hard to ignore the way people glanced at them, even at her as they passed. She couldn’t wait for the day to end so she could go back home and lay on her soft bed.

“Mom,” Noel whispered, tugging at her sleeve as they walked.

Avery paused in her steps and glanced down at him. “What is it, sweetheart?” she asked, noticing the frown on his face.

“Neal’s tie,” Noel pointed toward his twin, who was fidgeting uncomfortably with the silk fabric. Neal had been giving her hints that he didn’t like the tie since they left home but she had ignored his tantrums. It was Neal, always with the drama.

Neal frowned, his small hands fumbling with the knot. “It’s too tight.” He whispered.

Of the two boys, if there was anyone who wouldn’t want the Wellesley birthright, it was Neal. For some reason, he always acted differently. He wasn’t cut out for the corporate life or the Wellesley kind of life.

Avery sighed, rolling her eyes with a soft smile and knelt before him. “Hold still, baby. Let me fix it.” She told him, batting his hands away from the knot.

“Just a few minutes more and we’re done here. We’ll go home, okay?…” She told him, receiving a small nod from Noel and a relieved look from Neal.

As she carefully loosened the tie and adjusted it properly, she felt a shadow fall over them and a shift in the air. The kind of tension that sent a shiver down her spine.

Then, the unmistakable sound of heels clicking against the marble floor, next to her.

A sharp clearing of throat.

Avery already knew who it was before she even looked up, her breath hitching slightly at the woman who had sworn never to let her have peace.

Vivian Wellesley, Henry’s sister, stood before her, poised and unapproachable, dressed in an elegant emerald green gown that hugged her tall, slender frame. Her hair was styled to perfection, not a strand out of place; though Avery had a different opinion. But it was her expression that made Avery tense.

Vivian’s lips curled into a smirk that never quite reached her eyes. The same look Avery had been receiving for years. It never ceased to amaze her how Henry’s family had maintained a dislike for her for years.

The boys immediately stiffened. Noel lowered his eyes, gripping his hands together, while Neal instinctively moved closer to Avery’s side. She gave him a small smile, always the protective one.

Vivian’s smile didn’t reach her eyes as she stared at them. “Fixing ties now, Avery?” she drawled. “How domestic.”

Avery rose slowly, smoothing down her dress. She had an exasperated look on her face. Here we go, she said internally, facing Vivian. “They’re children,” she said, keeping her voice neutral. “They need help sometimes.”

Vivian let out a small, mocking laugh. “How very motherly of you.” She tilted her head slightly, gaze flicking between Avery and the boys. “Shame you had to cling to them to secure your place here. Lucky for you, they’re Henry’s.”

Avery’s stomach clenched. That constant reminder that she didn’t belong in the Wellesley family. She pushed the feeling down, not letting it show on her face.

Vivian took a slow step closer, lowering her voice just enough that only Avery could hear. “Because if they weren’t, we would have gotten rid of you a long time ago.”

Avery sucked in a sharp breath. “Excuse me?” she muttered. It was one thing to show their dislike, but this was taking another new level by telling her straight to her face.

Vivian smirked. “Oh, don’t act so surprised. You’ve always been an outsider. The only reason you’re standing here today is because of them. Father wanted them here… otherwise…” She snorted toward the boys, her tone laced with distaste.

Avery felt Noel’s small fingers grip the fabric of her dress. While Neal stepped in front of his brother, almost protectively. She hated her boys feeling this way. She had tried to protect them from this bitterness, but it seems they were bound to experience it.

Avery squared her shoulders, refusing to let the words sting. “I am their mother and Henry’s wife,” she said, voice steady. “That alone gives me a place here.”

Vivian’s expression darkened. “Henry’s ex wife mind you… And you still think that entitles you to the Wellesley name? To the respect of this family? You’re dreaming Avery!” Her voice carried now, drawing the attention of nearby guests.

Murmurs started around them as the eyes of guests who were around turned toward them.

Avery felt the weight of the scrutiny, the whispers. She hated scenes, hated being a spectacle, but she wasn’t about to back down, not in front of her children.

“I don’t know why you hate me so much, Vivian,” she said, her voice firmer now. “But I have done nothing to you.”

Vivian let out a sharp laugh. “Oh, poor Avery, always pretending to be the victim.” She stepped closer, her presence overwhelming. “You don’t belong here. And everyone knows it. The sooner you accept that, the better.”

The murmurs grew louder. Avery could see the way people pointed, some nodding in agreement with Vivian, others just watching the drama unfold. This wasn’t what she had thought would happen in the party.

She wasn’t the least bothered about herself, but they were also talking about her sons and making them uncomfortable. They shouldn’t be uncomfortable, they were in their father’s house.

Noel tugged on her hand, his little voice barely a whisper. “Mommy, can we go?”

Avery looked down at her son’s frightened face and her heart squeezing painfully.

Enough. She thought. You could hurl abusive words at her, she could bear it, but not her sons.