Charlotte’s POV
For the first ti in what felt like forever, I stepped out of the house and ventured into the city. The fresh air, the distant chatter of people, and the steady hum of life moving around were almost overwhelming after spending so much ti in isolation. But I had a goal—I needed to find the perfect place to start my business.
I wandered through the bustling streets, my eyes scanning for any vacant spaces. Shops and cafés lined the avenues, each one thriving with custors. It didn’t take long for to realize that finding a space wouldn’t be easy. Every storefront I passed seed well-established, leaving no hint of an opportunity for soone like .
Hours passed, and disappointnt began to settle in my chest. My feet ached and swollen from walking so much. The excitent I had felt at the beginning of the day had dimd into exhaustion by the ti I finally made my way back ho. But nothing could have prepared for the sight that greeted when I stepped through the door.
My mother was waiting for .
I froze, my heart skipping a beat as her familiar, warm eyes landed on . A mixture of sadness and relief crossed her face, and for a mont, I felt like a child again—caught in sothing I didn’t know how to explain.
"I felt a little hurt that you didn’t inform you were in Archois," she said softly. "I’ve been staying at your brother’s mansion with Lily."
Her voice wavered slightly, and the weight of her words hit like a stone.
"This house beca so lonely after your father died... and after your brother died," she continued, her gaze sweeping around the quiet space as if reliving mories.
Guilt pressed heavily on my chest. I had left without saying goodbye, running away from my pain, from everything this house reminded of. And in doing so, I had hurt her too.
"With you gone without a word..." she sighed, shaking her head. "It only added to the pain in my heart. I couldn’t stay here, Charlotte. It was too much."
She looked at then, her eyes filled with a sorrow I couldn’t ignore.
"Charlotte, I am your mother," she said firmly yet gently. "You can always count on when you are in trouble."
Her words made my throat tighten.
How could I tell her the truth? That I had been too ashad, too broken to face her? That I had chosen to bear my struggles alone rather than burden her with them?
I felt the sting of unshed tears, but I swallowed them down.
"Mom..." My voice cracked. I took a shaky breath, my hands trembling at my sides. "I—I’m so sorry."
It was all I could say. That was all I could offer.
She reached forward, pulling into a tight embrace. And for the first ti in a long ti, I allowed myself to lean into her warmth, letting the guilt and sorrow settle between us.
Maybe I had run away from ho, from my past. But standing there in my mother’s arms, I realized sothing.
I was tired of running.
Then, my eyes landed on a suitcase resting on the floor, and I looked up at my mother with a puzzled expression.
She noticed my gaze and offered a gentle smile.
"Your brother told you were here, so I decided to stay with you," she said, her voice soft but firm. "I’m sorry I wasn’t able to return from Barcelonia right away. I was so excited about your wedding..."
At the ntion of my wedding, my stomach twisted painfully. I quickly looked away, hoping she wouldn’t notice how much those words affected .
I thought I was over it. I really did.
But just hearing the word wedding made Jack’s face resurface in my mind, his voice echoing in my head. I clenched my fists, trying to push the mories away, but they clung to like shadows I couldn’t escape.
My mother must have sensed my turmoil because she reached out and gently caressed my face.
"I’m sorry you had to go through this kind of pain, my dear," she murmured, her thumb brushing against my cheek.
I hadn’t even realized I was crying until I felt the warmth of my own tears trailing down my skin.
She sighed, sadness clouding her eyes. "I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you when you needed the most. It must have been so hard dealing with all of this alone. But I’m here now."
Her words wrapped around like a soothing balm, but they also increased my guilt.
I forced a small smile and shook my head, trying to put on a brave front. "I’m fine now, Mom. You don’t have to worry about . And you don’t need to stay with —I’m a big girl now."
She gave a knowing look that told she wasn’t buying my act.
"Nonsense," she said with a soft chuckle. "I want to stay here with you."
I wasn’t expecting that.
For a mont, warmth blood in my chest. I should have pushed back and told her that I could handle things independently, but deep down, I wanted her to stay. Still, I didn’t want her to know how much her presence ant to . I had spent so long convincing myself I could stand on my own. Admitting that I needed soone felt...weak.
So, instead of saying anything, I nodded.
"I’ll take you to your room, Mom."
She nodded in return, and as I led her toward the main bedroom, an eerie sense of déjà vu washed over .
Walking down this hallway felt like stepping back in ti—to a ti when our family was still whole, laughter echoed in these walls, and things hadn’t fallen apart.
But everything had changed.
I used to bla Madeline for everything: our family’s cracks and pain. I had convinced myself that she was the reason things turned out the way they did.
But standing here now, I realized the truth.
It wasn’t just her. We were to bla, too. I was to bla.
My selfish need for attention and constant desire to prove sothing to my parents had led down a path of mistakes I could never take back. And now, I was paying the price.
A steep, unforgiving price.
But maybe this was my chance to make things right.
Excitent bubbled inside as I set the dining table, carefully arranging the dishes I had spent hours preparing. Having my mother here felt like a small piece of ho had been returned to , and I wanted to make this dinner special.
As I placed the last dish on the table, my mother walked in, her eyes widening in surprise.
"Wow!" she gasped, glancing at the array of food before her. "I heard from one of the maids that you cooked all of this?"
I nodded, wiping my hands on a kitchen towel.
"I did," I said, unable to hide the small smile on my lips.
Her eyes sparkled with delight as she took a seat. "I can’t wait to taste everything. It all looks amazing."
Hearing the enthusiasm in her voice made all the effort worth it. I sat across from her, watching as she took her first bite.
"Mmm," she humd in approval. "These are delicious. Did you learn all of this from—"
She trailed off before finishing her sentence. The hesitation in her voice was evident, and I knew exactly what—or rather, who—she ant.
For a mont, silence stretched between us.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced a reassuring smile. "Yes, Mom," I said, my voice even. "I learned everything from him. You don’t have to avoid saying his na. I’m okay. If I can’t even handle hearing it, how am I supposed to move on?"
I lied.
Saying his na still stung, but I refused to let my mother see that.
She sighed softly, stirring her soup absentmindedly. "I admit, he is a talented chef. And, Charlotte... I don’t think he ever truly ant to hurt you."
I set my fork down, feeling my heart tighten. "Maybe not," I murmured. "But that doesn’t change anything."
She looked at with quiet understanding, but I didn’t want to dwell on the past.
"You can say his na, Mom," I continued, keeping my voice steady. "But let’s not talk about my relationship with him. It’s over."
I wanted to sound confident. Certain. Like I had fully moved on.
But deep down, I wasn’t sure if I was trying to convince her—or myself.
She nodded gently, respecting my request. "Alright. I’m sorry, sweetheart."
Wanting to shift the conversation, she leaned back and studied . "I actually ca here early this morning, but you had already left. I waited for you for quite a while."
Guilt pricked at . "I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were coming today," I admitted. "I was out all morning."
Her brows lifted with curiosity. "What were you up to?"
I took a sip of water before answering. "I was looking for a space," I said. "I’m planning to open a café."
My mother’s face lit up.
"A café?" she repeated, excitent creeping into her tone. "Oh, Charlotte, that’s wonderful!"
I smiled, relieved by her enthusiasm. "Yeah. I walked around the city looking for vacant spaces, but every business seed to thrive. I didn’t find anything available."
My mother’s expression shifted as if sothing had just clicked in her mind.
"Well," she started, leaning forward eagerly. "It just so happens that I know soone—an old friend of mine. She told recently that she was thinking of selling her place in the downtown area. It’s an old bakery, but with the right vision, it could be perfect for a café."
My heart jumped in excitent.
"Really?" I breathed, gripping the edge of the table.
She nodded, smiling at my reaction. "Yes. If you’re interested, I can take you to et her tomorrow."
A rush of hope flooded through . Maybe this was a sign. Maybe after everything, things were finally starting to fall into place.
My mother had arrived today, bringing not only comfort but also opportunity.
For the first ti in a long ti, I felt excitent for the future.
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