The Ashmore Lady

Chapter 6: Breaking Point

"They say you can get used to anything if you live with it long enough," they say, staring down at my hands. "But there's a point where it's not about getting used to it. It's about realizing that maybe you're the only one who hasn't accepted this... this thing they've turned you into."

I couldn't breathe.

Every morning, I woke up feeling trapped in my own skin. The layers of makeup, the dresses, the endless charade—it wasn't just an act anymore. It had become my entire life. I was no longer Simon. I was Miss Madeline Ashmore, the family's carefully constructed solution to all their problems. The more time passed, the more it became clear that this wasn't just temporary like they'd promised. This was who I had to be.

And it felt like I was drowning.

The family, on the other hand, seemed more at ease than ever. My mother smiled more, delighted at how "natural" everything was starting to feel. John and William barely even acknowledged the change anymore, treating me as though I'd always been their little sister. My father? He was more preoccupied with the details of the estate and the future of the Ashmore name than with how any of this was affecting me.

They acted like the hard part was over, like we'd won.

But inside, I was crumbling.

I tried to ignore it at first. I kept telling myself that this was all for the family, that I could handle it. But the discomfort with my own body had only gotten worse. My skin felt foreign, like something I couldn't escape from. I hated the way my body moved, the way my reflection stared back at me with someone else's face. And the hormones, those damned pills—they made everything more surreal. I felt softer, weaker, like parts of me were being erased. Every time I touched my chest, the sensation... it felt like a mockery of who I used to be.

It wasn't just my body, though. It was the weight of the secret we were all keeping. The lies we had to maintain, the way my family had seamlessly slipped into this new reality where I wasn't even their son anymore. I was their insurance policy, their guarantee that they wouldn't lose the fortune they were so obsessed with. I was no longer a person to them. I was a tool.

And the pressure of it all was crushing me.

It all came to a head one evening after dinner. My mother had been watching me closely for weeks, her smiles too wide, her words too sweet. She saw the cracks forming, the way I was starting to pull away.

"Madeline," she said, stopping me as I tried to leave the room. "We need to talk."

I could feel the tension in her voice. I knew what was coming, and yet, I wasn't ready for it.

"What is it?" I muttered, not turning to face her.

She hesitated, and I could feel her eyes on me, measuring, calculating.

"You've been distant lately," she said carefully. "Is everything alright?"

I laughed bitterly, finally turning around to look at her. "Is everything alright? Are you serious, Mother?"

She blinked, taken aback by the sharpness in my voice. "Madeline, I—"

"Stop calling me that," I snapped. "Just... stop."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she didn't correct me. Instead, she stepped closer, lowering her voice. "I know this hasn't been easy for you, Madeline. But you have to understand, this is what we need to do for the family. We're so close now. You've been doing so well."

Doing well. That's what they always said. Like I was performing in some kind of play.

"This isn't what I agreed to," I said, my voice shaking with frustration. "You said this was temporary. That it would all end after we got the inheritance. But look at me, Mother. Look at what I've become! I don't even recognize myself anymore!"

My mother's face softened into that familiar look of concern, but there was something else there too—something harder, colder. "I know this has been difficult, but we're almost there. Once the will is settled, things can go back to how they were."

"How? How can things go back to normal after this?" I gestured to myself, to the woman they had turned me into. "I can't just switch back! You think I can just wake up one day and be Simon again?"

"You're overreacting," she said, her voice dangerously calm now. "This is a temporary situation, darling. You're making it out to be worse than it is."

I shook my head, feeling the heat rise in my chest. "Worse than it is? You made me destroy who I was for this—for your damn inheritance! I've given up everything, and you act like it's nothing. Like I'm nothing."

Her expression hardened, and suddenly, I saw the cold truth in her eyes. "You're not nothing, sweetheart. You're our last hope. You're doing what's necessary for this family, and sometimes that means making sacrifices."

Sacrifices. That was what it always came back to. Sacrificing myself for them, for their future.

"I can't keep doing this," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I can't keep pretending."

She stepped closer, placing a hand on my shoulder. It was supposed to be comforting, but it felt like a weight pressing down on me. "You don't have a choice, honey. We're all in this together. And whether you like it or not, this is your life now. That's what's best for all of us."

I stared at her, unable to speak, the anger and sadness boiling inside me. This was who they were. This was what I meant to them. I wasn't their son. I wasn't their family. I was their pawn.

And there was no escape.

"You think you know where your limits are, where you'll draw the line," they say, with a quiet voice. "But when you're pushed far enough, you realize that line keeps moving. And before you know it, you've crossed every boundary you thought you had. And there's no going back."