CHAPTER 003

BETTY

After spending hours in Harriette’s rose garden, letting the quiet settle into the cracks of my chest, I finally force myself to head inside.

Harriette left earlier, and her soft warning still echoes in my ears, so I stayed behind, pretending the roses could hold me together a little longer.

I walk back into the manor slowly, and I find the hallways empty, the lights around the house dim, meaning everyone must have retired by now.

I go up the stairs, taking my time, each step heavier than the last, and make my way to Grace’s room, my hand hesitating for a breath before I push the door open.

I freeze when I find Nathaniel sitting on the edge of her bed, sleeves rolled up, a storybook open in his hands.

His head is tilted toward her, and I watch as he softly tucks a curl behind her ear and places a gentle kiss on her forehead before whispering, “I love you, baby girl.”

Grace smiles in her sleep, and something in my heart cracks open, making me let go of the doorknob, but it creaks loudly enough to announce my presence.

His head jerks up, and the warmth disappears from his face instantly, replaced by the cold, distant expression he reserves only for me.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, rising to his full height, placing the book neatly on her bedside table like nothing just happened.

“I wanted to kiss her goodnight,” I respond softly.

He doesn’t even give me a second look. He walks to me and reaches for my wrist, fingers firm, pulling me out into the hallway before shutting the door behind us.

“She’s asleep,” he barks, voice sharp. “Also, how dare you take her with you today without my permission?”

I try to yank my hand away, but he is too strong for me. “I wanted her there with me,” I blurt, “Is that so wrong?”

His jaw flexes, and his eyes harden before releasing my hand.

“You don’t take her anywhere without telling me. I can’t have you dragging her to…”

“To where I grew up?” I interrupt, feeling just a little fed up with his attitude. “To my neighborhood?”

His lip curls just slightly, and I watch as his hands form fists at his sides. “Yes. To that dump.”

I swallow, forcing my voice to stay steady. “But she’s my daughter too, Nathaniel… just as much as she is yours.”

He laughs, the sound not coming out as joy but contempt. “I don’t care, Betty. Her last name is Blackwell and not Cooper. So like I said, don’t ever take her anywhere without telling me.”

He turns, already walking away, but something in me cracks open, and a low voice comes out before I can stop it. “Why didn’t you come to the cemetery today?” I sigh, blinking slowly,

“I needed you.”

He stops in his tracks, and he doesn’t move. Then he slowly turns, slipping his hands into his pockets, before tilting his head, and a cruel smile curves his lips.

“What made you think I would come?” he sneers, taking a step towards me.

My breath catches, and I am just about to answer when he takes another step.

“What makes you think I wanted to be there?” he pauses dramatically. “I don’t care about you,” he adds, taking two more steps, his voice rising with each word, “let alone your drug-addict mother.”

My vision blurs for a moment, and I blink my tears back, but one escapes anyway, sliding hot down my cheek.

“How long will you punish me?” I whisper through my clenched teeth. “Six years, Nathaniel… isn’t that enough? I sniffle between words. “ I have loved you with everything I have — even after the way you’ve treated me all those years.”

He lifts his hand, smirking like it’s all amusing to him and shakes his head once before arching his left brow. “With what?” he mocks. “Everything you have comes from me.”

I swallow the lump forming in my throat.

“And as for this so-called suffering…” he steps closer, towering over me. “Do you see any chains on you Betty?” his eyes move to my wrists. “ Leave if you want. Actually,” his smile turns dark and confident, “that would make it easier for me to take my daughter from you. Because she is not going anywhere.”

He turns again, leaving, but this time I reach out on instinct, grabbing his hand.

He freezes, looking as my fingers wrap around his, then at me, and I can see fury blazing in his eyes before he rips his hand out of mine.

“You cost me the most important thing in my life when you drugged me that night, Betty,” he spits, pointing his finger at me and taking a few steps back.

“I’m going to make sure you lose something just as important before I am done with you,” he threatens, and before my brain can digest his words, he is already striding down the hall to his chambers and slams his door shut once inside.

I stand there, my body trembling, and I feel my knees give out.

I sink to the cold, polished floor, my arms wrapping around my legs, and I pull them close to my chest.

The tears break free before I can stop them, rushing out in a quiet flood, but I force myself to cry silently.

God forbid anyone in this house hears me and adds “weak” to their list, so I cover my mouth to muffle the sounds and drag myself against the wall, letting it all out.

I cry for Mum. I cry for the ruins of my marriage. I cry for the six years I’ll never get back, and worst of all, I cry because I cannot believe he still thinks I drugged him all those years ago.

Once I’m done, I gather myself, wiping the tears off my face with the back of my hand, and step quietly into Grace’s room.

Her little lamp is now on, casting soft shadows on the walls, and she’s curled up under her elephant blanket, her eyes open and glassy.

“Why aren’t you sleeping, baby?” I whisper, walking closer and kneeling beside her bed.

“I heard yelling, Mom. Are you and Daddy fighting again?” she asks, her voice trembling, her small fingers gripping the edge of the blanket.

I blink fast, shaking my head. “No, love. We weren’t fighting. Daddy was just explaining something to me. Now close your eyes.”

She looks at me for a long moment, and I can tell she can see right through me.

Grace is only six, but sometimes it feels like she’s lived a thousand years. She sees too much and feels too deeply. That is why I always have to be careful around her.

I smooth her hair and tuck the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “You and I are going to do something fun tomorrow, okay?” I tell her, forcing a smile to distract her.

Her lips lift slightly, and the slightest hint of excitement returns to her tired little face. “Okay, Mama. But don’t forget to remind Daddy to sign my permission slip for the field trip,” she murmurs, yawning.

A sharp pang hits my chest, and I bite the insides of my cheeks. God, I’d forgotten all about that with everything else that’s been happening.

“I won’t forget, sweetheart.” I brush a strand of hair from her forehead and lean in to kiss her cheek.

I reach for the light to turn it off, but her voice comes again, sleepy, and full of something that breaks me.

“Mama,” she whispers, “don’t worry about Grandma. Daddy said when people we love die, they turn into angels and watch over us. I know Grandma is your angel now.”

A sound escapes me, something between a sob and a sigh, making me turn halfway, blinking fast as one tear slips down my cheek.

“Yes, she is my sweet girl. She is watching over both of us.” I clutch my chest with my hand. “Now go to sleep,” I whisper.

She yawns, her eyes fluttering shut, and her breathing slows. I stand there for a long moment, watching her little chest rise and fall, the tiny hand still clutching the blanket.

I turn off the light and step out, closing the door behind me softly, before leaning against it.

 I stand there in the dark now hallway, feeling the ache in my chest slowly ease.

And it’s in these quiet moments, with Grace’s words echoing in my heart, that I know, despite everything, I could never regret meeting Nathaniel.