His name was Nathaniel

30

After what felt like endless hours on the road, the car finally slowed as they turned onto a long, tree-lined driveway. Nathaniel's heart pounded in his chest as the outline of his mother's childhood home came into view. The grand estate was nothing like the cold, imposing Donovan estate. Instead, it exuded warmth, with ivy climbing the stone walls and the soft glow of lights pouring out from every window.

As they pulled up, the large wooden door swung open, and before Nathaniel could even gather his thoughts, he was surrounded by family members he had never met before. They embraced him with open arms, their faces glowing with joy and relief. A woman with graying hair-his great-aunt, as Lydia explained-pulled him into a tight hug, while cousins and other relatives smiled warmly at him, each offering their own welcome.

It was overwhelming, this instant love and acceptance, something Nathaniel had never felt at the Donovan estate. There, every gesture was measured, every interaction guarded. But here, it felt... different. It felt like a home.

"Come on, Nathaniel," Lydia said softly, her hand resting gently on his shoulder. "There's so much I want to show you."

She led him through the front entrance, and Nathaniel was immediately struck by how vibrant and alive the house felt. The walls were adorned with family portraits, paintings, and photographs. Unlike the sterile and distant feel of his father's estate, this house was filled with warmth and personal touches. Laughter echoed from one of the side rooms, the smell of freshly baked bread wafting from the kitchen. It was all so foreign to Nathaniel, yet deeply comforting.

Lydia pointed out various rooms as they walked through the estate. "This was your mother's favorite spot to sit and read," she said, gesturing to a cozy nook by a large window. "And over here, this is the family dining room. We've had so many gatherings here over the years."

Nathaniel nodded, trying to take it all in, but his attention was quickly drawn to a wall ahead, where dozens of framed photos hung in neat rows. As they approached, his breath caught in his throat.

It was a timeline of his mother's life.

Starting from when she was a baby, to her as a young girl, all the way to her as a young woman. There were pictures of her smiling on family vacations, playing the piano, and even a few with his baby self nestled in her arms. He stared at a photo of his mother holding him, her face glowing with joy. He couldn't remember the moment, but seeing it made his chest tighten with an unfamiliar ache.

"This is the woman I've missed my whole life," he thought, his fingers lightly brushing the edges of the frames.

Lydia must have noticed the shift in his mood because she stopped her tour and stood beside him, her eyes softening as they looked at the pictures.

"Your mother, Elara, was... everything to us," she said gently. "She was kind, warm, and so full of life. Everyone who met her loved her instantly. She was the kind of person who lit up every room she walked into."

Nathaniel remained silent, unable to tear his gaze from the wall of memories.

"But," Lydia continued, her voice quieter now, "we were all worried when she started seeing your father. Edward... well, you know what kind of man he is. He wasn't always like that, though. At first, we thought maybe Elara could change him, soften him. But the more serious things got, the more we all warned her."

Nathaniel's throat tightened as Lydia's words hung in the air.

"She loved him, though," Lydia added softly. "She saw something in him that no one else could. And for a time, they were happy. But over the years, things changed. Your mother's health declined, and your father... he became more and more distant. Controlling."

Nathaniel swallowed hard, his mind racing as Lydia spoke. He had always wondered why his mother had stayed with his father. He had wondered if there was ever any real love between them.

"You look so much like her," Lydia said after a pause, her gaze lingering on Nathaniel's face. "And you have her spirit too. She fought for what she believed in, and she was fiercely protective of those she loved."

Nathaniel took a deep breath, finally tearing his eyes away from the photos and looking at his aunt. "Why didn't anyone stop her?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lydia sighed, a sad smile touching her lips. "We tried, Nathaniel. We really did. But when someone loves that deeply, there's only so much you can do. She thought she could fix him... and in the end, it cost her everything."

Nathaniel felt a lump forming in his throat as the weight of his mother's choices and his own situation settled heavily on his shoulders. Would he ever truly escape the shadow of his father? Would he ever be free?

Lydia must have sensed his thoughts because she squeezed his arm gently. "You're not your father, Nathaniel," she said firmly. "You have a choice. And you have us now."

Nathaniel nodded, but deep down, he wasn't so sure. His mother had made her choice, and it had led her to a life of suffering. What if he was destined to follow the same path?

But as he stood there, surrounded by his mother's memories and his family's warmth, a small spark of hope flickered in his chest.