"Forgive you?" Margaret snapped before Nathan could respond. She strode forward, brushing past her son, and planted herself in front of Oliver. Her stare was hard and unforgiving.
Oliver couldn’t bring himself to et her eyes. Her gaze burned into him, dragging up every failure, every selfish choice, every mont he turned his back on her.
"It’s been over twenty years since we parted ways," she said, her tone icy and level. "We have lived separate lives, never crossing paths. I told myself that if I ever saw you again, I wouldn’t feel anything."
She let out a bitter breath. "But the truth is... the pain is still here. The disappointnt still stings. Nothing has changed."
She took another step forward, her presence bearing down on him. She jabbed a finger into his chest.
"Do you even have a heart? Or did you replace it with stone long ago?"
He finally forced himself to look at her. "Margaret, I know I failed you. I made unforgivable mistakes. I was blind. But I was manipulated—Hugo and Susan..."
"Don’t you dare hide behind them," she snapped, cutting him off. "They didn’t force your hand. They didn’t make your choices. You did. You chose to believe them. You threw your trust away. I told you again and again, I had no romantic ties to Hugo, that we were only friends."
Her voice trembled with rage now. "You sent him to jail and demanded I cut him off. I did. I obeyed, without protest, without hesitation. But even then, you never stopped doubting ."
Oliver stood there, hollow, as Margaret’s words hit harder than any blow.
Tears shimred in Margaret’s eyes, her heart heavy with the weight of everything that had gone unsaid for decades.
"After the kidnapping, I even went through the humiliation of a dical exam just to prove I hadn’t been raped. I brought you the report. But even then, you never truly believed ."
She choked on the words, swallowing hard to hold herself together. "You grew cold after that, as if I had done sothing wrong. You think I didn’t notice? I saw it in your eyes every ti you looked at . Your cold stare, your detachnt – everything told clearly that you didn’t trust ."
Her tears spilled over, but she wiped them away with a sharp motion, steeling herself. "I could have lived with your doubt. But what I never expected was for you to take it out on Raya."
Her voice turned sharp, pain and fury bubbling to the surface. "You believed every word that ca out of Susan’s mouth. You let her lie to you. And then you brought gan into our ho. You convinced yourself she was yours. And you threw your real daughter away like she didn’t matter."
Her composure finally cracked. The tears ca fast now, rolling freely down her cheeks as the years of grief burst free.
"She was just a baby," Margaret cried, voice shaking. She reached out and grabbed his collar with both hands, her sobs overtaking her as she shook him, desperately trying to shake an answer out of him.
"Even the coldest man wouldn’t do what you did. If you hated , if you couldn’t bear to live with us, you could have walked away. You could have divorced and been done with it. But to abandon an innocent child like that? That’s cruel."
Oliver stood motionless, his head bowed low, sha written in every line of his face. He wanted to speak, to apologize, but no words ca. His throat closed up, locked with guilt.
Deep down, he knew no apology could ever erase what he had done. His betrayal had cut deeper than any sche Hugo or Susan had ever crafted. He had broken the people he was supposed to protect. And there was no fixing that.
"You say you were deceived?" Margaret snapped, her voice tight with fury. "No—you chose to be deceived."
Her eyes blazed, every word landing like a slap. "You wanted to believe Susan. You wanted her lies to be true because it justified your doubts, your jealousy, your insecurity. You didn’t even try to hear out. You never stopped to question whether she was lying. To you, she was always the one telling the truth, and I was always the liar."
Her face twisted into a sneer as she shoved him back.
"You are so proud of yourself that you are a top lawyer in the city. But the truth is, you are nothing but a fool. You couldn’t even see the truth. You couldn’t tell who was lying and who was bleeding."
"I’m sorry... I’m so sorry." Oliver’s voice ca out barely above a whisper, thick with emotion.
Margaret scoffed. "I don’t want your apology." She turned away from him, brushing away her tears with a cold swipe. "And don’t expect forgiveness. Not from . And definitely not from my children."
She turned her head, eyes sharp. "They suffered too. You left all of us behind."
Oliver trembled, his shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. He inhaled deeply, trying to steady himself.
"I know," he rasped. "I know saying sorry doesn’t fix anything. But I’m still going to say it."
Margaret didn’t look at him.
Oliver turned to Nathan, guilt etched into every line of his face. "I’m sorry, Nathan," he murmured. "I failed you, too. I knew how much you were hurting, how you had to carry Mom’s pain alone all those years. I should have been there. I should have helped you. But I didn’t. I neglected you both."
The weight of years lost hung in the air.
"And yet... every ti I needed you, I just had to make a call and you showed up. I don’t deserve that kind of loyalty, and I never earned it."
Nathan’s gaze softened as he sympathized with him, his anger slowly giving way to sothing more complicated. Despite everything, despite the betrayal and absence, he couldn’t bring himself to truly hate Oliver. Watching his father standing there, weighed down by guilt, eyes dim with regret, Nathan’s heart cracked.
He could understand him and even could feel his heartbreak.
Yes, Margaret’s words were true. Oliver had made terrible choices. He had hurt their family in ways that couldn’t be undone. But Nathan also saw the other truth—Oliver hadn’t acted out of pure malice. He had been manipulated, fed lies, poisoned by fake stories, and forged docunts.
gan had played the sa ga, and everyone had fallen for it, convinced that Anne wasn’t Raya. Margaret had believed the fake DNA report. She had even treated Anne unfairly, never suspecting they could be forged. It hadn’t crossed her mind that it could be faked.
So when Oliver had accepted that false report, when he let Susan guide his judgnt, it was a failure, but not his alone.
Lost in thought, Nathan barely noticed Oliver speaking until his voice broke through.
"You were trying to find Raya. And I—I could have helped. I should have stood beside you, as your father. But I didn’t. I turned away and let you carry the weight alone. I see it now. And I’m ashad."
Nathan’s lips parted, emotion choking his chest.
"Dad, don’t say that... You didn’t know. You were deceived."
But before he could say more, Margaret cut in sharply.
"Nathan. How can you forgive him so easily? Have you forgotten what he did to your sister?"
Nathan hesitated, caught between them. But before he could answer, Oliver took hold of his wrist, stopping him.
"Listen to your mother," Oliver said quietly. "She is right. I was a fool. I let their lies take over my mind. I failed as a husband, as a father. I didn’t question anything—I just accepted what Susan gave and never looked deeper. I should have protected you both... but I didn’t."
Silence followed his words, thick and suffocating.
Then Oliver turned, his gaze slowly drifting to Anne.
She stood quietly beside Augustine, her expression unreadable. The girl he had once cast aside had grown into a woman—strong, calm, but impossibly distant. His gut twisted with sha, and his feet felt like lead as he took a few steps toward her.
He couldn’t et her eyes at first. But he knew he had to. He owed her that much.
Standing in front of her, he opened his mouth—then closed it again. Words fumbled in his throat. Where could he even begin? He didn’t know how to speak to the daughter he had abandoned cruelly.
Anne didn’t move. Her face remained blank, her silence deafening. Augustine, sensing she was disturbed, gently laced his fingers through hers, quietly assuring her, ’You are not alone. I am here with you.’
Oliver’s voice finally ca. "You must hate . You have every reason to. I was cruel. I left you. I let you suffer. I tore you away from your mother, and I did nothing to make it right. I beca a monster. And I—"
He choked with emotion, his eyes brimming with tears.
"I deserve whatever punishnt you give. Whatever you decide... I’ll accept it."
He stood there, hollow and exposed, waiting—aching—for a response that might never co.
Anne didn’t respond right away. She stood still, her face unreadable. The sting of everything that had happened was still there, but her emotions had dulled.
The man in front of her was her biological father, but she didn’t feel any connection. To her, Paule was her father.
When she finally spoke, her voice was calm, almost too calm. "I don’t hate you. I don’t carry a grudge. You are already drowning in guilt. That will stay with you forever. Knowing you abandoned your own daughter, that truth will never let you rest. That’s a punishnt heavier than anything I could ever give."
Reviews
All reviews (0)