Areston thinks he can shield me from his past, but what he doesn't realize is I'm already part of it.
The darkness that haunts him? It's the same one that's been chasing me for years.
I've given him everything-my body, my heart, my soul-and still...
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Amongst the countless things I've mastered, the art of control is the biggest one out of it. Control over my empire, over my image, over my relationships, and over the universe that bends and shifts under the weight of my ambitions.
I failed for the first time ever when I saw my precious child in a disheveled state following her successful escape from that hellhole I'd unknowingly sent her to. I still remember the evening quite vividly. The way her knees had given up and she'd sunk on the living room of The Rothschild Mansion where Ramon, my dear mama, and I had gathered for dinner.
The pain of the acknowledgement of the failure is as sharp and unrelenting as it was when I experienced it for the first time that evening.
It's the same pain piercing me right now as I stand frozen in the garden for a while after my daughter has fled.
The soft rustle of the tree leaves is the only sound that's disturbing the oppressive silence.
My precious baby's accusations are echoing in my head, louder than anything I've heard in years.
Why can't you fucking empathize with me for once? Why can't you just be a mother for one fucking time?
The way she delivered those brutal words—desperate and shattered—have cut me deeper than a sword can.
My always polite and obedient daughter finally ended up cracking open the shell she has always worn around me for my happiness and walked out of it.
Today wasn't my first attempt to break that hard shell of hers that could rival a mountain's depth.
But today, of all the days, she didn't care about keeping up the veneer. She finally had enough of... me.
While it's liberating for her, I don't know how I feel about it.
I stand in the same position as I was when she left me, unrattled and unfeeling on the outside, as I always do. Always. It's my defense, my armor.
But my daughter's tears and sobs, which I've seen for the first time today, have cracked something in my depths in an irreparable way.
