The Hidden Truth

I spent my first divorce morning in my grandfather's study. The thick drapes were half drawn, letting in a beam of light across the papers piled high on the desk. Grandfather, Edmund Hale, read from a sheet of paper, his glasses low on the bridge of his nose.

I shifted in my chair, rolling my hands into fists. My own body remained limp from the hospital, but the child inside me was the only reason I kept going.

He set down the paper and looked at me. "Zephyrine." His voice was soft, but it carried with it importance.

"Yes, Grandfather?"

He leaned back in his chair. "The doctor came to see me. You're pregnant."

My chest tightened. I looked down at my lap. "Yes. I didn't mean to keep it from you. I just… I wasn't ready to say the words myself."

He took a breath, then stood up and moved around the desk. His hand settled lightly on my shoulder. "You are bearing life, my dear. That child—no, those children—are part of my blood as well. And I will not let anyone harm them. Do you hear me?"

Tears burned the back of my eyes. I nodded quickly. "I see."

He nodded once. "Good. You will not be returning to that house. You will not see Callum again. From today on, you are in my protection."

A shivering breath left me. "But Father? He will—"

"Your father made his choice when he abandoned you for Vivienne and her child. He has no authority in this. You are now my heir, Zephyrine. Not them."

I stared up at him, my eyes wide. "Your heir?"

"Yes." His voice was stern. "It is time the name Hale stood tall once more. You will have it. You will no longer be a Wilder. That name has brought you nothing but pain. You will be Zephyrine Hale from this day forward."

I gulped, my heart pounding. "Grandfather… are you certain?"

He offered a seldom-seen smile. "Your mother would want it this way. You're her daughter, not theirs. And I'll make certain the world doesn't forget it."

I nodded slowly, allowing the words to set in. I wasn't leaving Callum behind, however. I was leaving behind the Wilder family as well.

---

The succeeding days were spent quietly preparing. I gathered my things to bring with the help of my grandfather's assistant, Mrs. Clark. She fretted over dresses, books, and even old pictures.

"You will be needing formal gowns for events abroad," she said, holding a light blue gown. "This one is for spring. And these, some shoes to match."

I smiled faintly. "I won't need so many. I'm studying, not walking red carpets."

She clicked her tongue. "With your grandfather's name, you will be going to galas whether you like it or not. It's a good idea to be prepared."

I sighed but said nothing.

In the evening, Grandfather briefed me on the family business. He spoke of the companies, the holdings, the partners with whom I would meet overseas.

"You must learn, Zephyrine," he said to me one night, making tea for himself. "Not just the books, but the people. The world will test you. You must be ready to meet it."

"I'll try my best, Grandfather."

"Do it," he told me in a stern voice. "You are more powerful than you realize. That man sought to ruin you, and still you stand here."

I lowered my gaze. "I feel weak at times."

He shook his head. "Weakness would have been remaining. You departed. That is strength."

His words lingered in me like a promise.

---

One week later, Grandfather announced he was hosting a goodbye gala. "It is proper," he said. "The world needs to perceive you departing as my heir, rather than that man's rejected wife."

I wasn't sure I was ready to go back out into society, but I complied.

That night, when I put on a floor-length green gown graciously loaned to me by Mrs. Clark, she pulled on my hair and fastened it up behind me. I barely recognized the woman staring back at me.

"You're beautiful," Mrs. Clark said, beaming.

I could only muster a tiny smile. "Thanks."

When I entered the grand hall, words ceased to be spoken. Heads turned. The whispers started immediately—about the breakdown, about my surprise visit to the Hale manor, about what it indicated.

I held my head high, marching beside my grandfather.

And then I saw him.

Callum.

He stood in the doorway, dressed in his usual black suit. His eyes locked onto me, sharp and unreadable. For a moment, the world closed in on us.

I commanded my legs to keep going. My heels on marble were staccato and firm. He stepped towards me, as if expecting me to stop, to flee into his arms, to beg him to come back.

I didn't.

I shoved him aside wordlessly. Without glancing back.

The look on his face, locked in that instant of a second, was something I would never forget. Shock. Maybe even anger. But I did not stop.

---

The ball went on with music, dancing, and speeches. My grandfather introduced me proudly as his successor. Guests congratulated me, praised my calmness, asked me what I planned to do abroad. I answered politely, though my mind still strayed back to that one moment when I overtook Callum.

Later, when the evening was fading out, I stepped out onto the balcony for some fresh air. Mrs. Clark followed me with a shawl. "Cold?".

A little, I confessed, accepting it from her.

She looked at me seriously. "You did a great job tonight. You didn't let him faze you."

I shook my head slowly. "It wasn't easy."

"It never is," she replied softly. "But you'll become stronger each time."

---

It was evening, after the gala, that I stood in my room, looking at the packed suitcases. The next day, I would be going abroad with my grandfather.

I crossed to the window and gazed out at the dark garden. Somewhere outside, Callum was probably drinking, furious, confused. Maybe he waited for me to crawl back on my hands and knees.

But I wouldn't. Not now.

Mrs. Clark's tap on the door was soft. "All is ready, Miss Hale."

"Thank you," I said, attempting to sound normal.

When the door closed, I sat on the bed and rested a hand on my belly. "We're going," I said to my unborn babies. "We're leaving it all behind. We'll start over."

I leaned back, my eyes closing, and for the first time in years, felt nearly serene.

---

The next morning, as the car pulled away from the mansion heading towards the airport, I gazed out of the window.

Callum was standing by the gates. His hair was disheveled, his eyes wide with understanding of what was happening.

He moved forward, shouting out my name, but the car didn't slow.

I didn't glance over my shoulder.

By the time he understood, it was too late.

I was gone.