Chapter 14: The Last Day
After her interview, Stella visited Paula. She learned that Paula and Cecilia's younger brother planned to marry Cecilia off to an elderly man in exchange for three billion. Seeing Nathaniel remain silent, Stella interjected, "I heard from Mrs. Smith that Cecilia demanded a three-hundred-million betrothal gift. I never expected her to be that sort of person…" She paused, then added, "They also said the cooling-off period isn't over, so marriage is inappropriate. They'll just hold the ceremony first."
Unbeknownst to Cecilia, her mother and brother continued planning her wedding, dismissing her previous objections. Paula believed Cecilia wouldn't dare defy them, as she hadn't in the past. Cecilia had endured many hardships growing up and never considered leaving—she assumed this time would be no different.
Magnus had already persuaded Randy to transfer the three-hundred-million betrothal gift, using it to launch his new company. He felt no guilt or obligation to Cecilia.
One day, Cecilia received a text from her mother: "Mr. Larke has chosen the fifteenth. You have four days to prepare. This time, you must win his heart, understand?"
An overwhelming tide of emotion crashed over Cecilia. The fifteenth… the day of their joyful reunion, the day she and Nathaniel had agreed to finalize their divorce, the day she was forced to marry Randy, and the day she had decided to end her life. Fearful of forgetting, Cecilia meticulously documented these events in her notebook before beginning her farewell letters.
Picking up her pen, she struggled to find the words. Finally, she left messages for Martha and Calvin. She tucked the letters under her pillow.
Three days later, on the fourteenth, the rain fell heavily. Cecilia's phone lay on the coffee table, ringing incessantly with calls from Paula, urging her to return home and prepare for the wedding.
Cecilia didn't respond. That day, she wore a new begonia-colored dress and carefully applied her makeup. She wasn't unattractive—just thin, with pale skin. Looking in the mirror, she saw a radiant, exquisite reflection, reminiscent of her pre-Nathaniel days.
She hailed a taxi to the cemetery. Holding an umbrella against the relentless rain, she walked to her father's tombstone, gently placing white daisies.
"Dad," she whispered. The wind howled, the only other sound the rain on her umbrella. "I'm sorry… I didn't intend to come here, but I had nowhere else to go." Her voice trembled. "I admit, I'm a coward, afraid to face this alone. That's why I came to you… If you wish to scold me, please do."
Settling beside the tombstone, she hugged herself tightly. She unlocked her phone to a barrage of angry messages from Paula:
Paula: Cecilia! Do you think you can escape by hiding? Paula: Magnus has the money. Do you think Mr. Larke will let you go? Paula: Think it over. Marrying tomorrow is better than being discovered and forced.
"Know what's good for me, huh?" Cecilia murmured.
In reply, she wrote: I won't return. Tomorrow, meet me at my father's tombstone in the west suburbs. I'll be waiting.
Paula, assuming Cecilia had accepted her fate, stopped calling. Cecilia savored the quiet. She sat there all day.
As night fell, she took out the small wooden puppet her father had carved for her as a child. She held it close, shielding it from the darkness and rain. The distant clock chimed twelve. The fifteenth had arrived. Cecilia gazed at the dark sky, a bitter taste in her mouth.
At three in the morning, with trembling hands, she took a bottle of pills from her bag. At that same time, in Daltonia Villa…
Nathaniel was exhausted, pressing his temples, only to be jolted awake by another nightmare—of Cecilia's death. It felt so real.
He checked his phone: four in the morning. He remembered today was the end of the cooling-off period, their divorce date. He texted Cecilia: Don't forget, we're finalizing the divorce today.
Cecilia's mind was already clouded. She sent a voice message: I'm sorry… I may not make it. But we will definitely part ways…
After her death, the marriage would be irrelevant.
Nathaniel felt a sudden, inexplicable unease. Cecilia dying? She couldn't bear the thought of dying, let alone divorcing him. He called her.
Cecilia rarely received calls from Nathaniel, a man of few words, usually communicating through texts. He almost never called.
Before Cecilia could speak, Nathaniel's icy voice cut through the line. "My patience is at an end. Wasn't it you who wanted a divorce? Are you backing out because I didn't give you money? Planning to marry someone else? Three hundred million isn't enough, is it?"
A lump formed in Cecilia's throat; she could barely hear. But as the end neared, she refused to admit to things she hadn't done.
Mustering her strength, she said, "Nathaniel… when I married you… it wasn't about your wealth. This divorce isn't about money either… You might not believe me, but I didn't know my mother and brother broke the contract. I wouldn't marry anyone now… not even for three hundred million…"
Her words were fragmented. Nathaniel heard the wind and rain in the background.
"Where are you?" he asked urgently.
Cecilia couldn't hear him clearly, but she held the phone tightly, repeating, "If… If I'd known what my mother and brother did, I wouldn't have married you. If I'd known… you felt for Stella… I wouldn't have married you. If I'd known my father would be in an accident on my wedding day… I wouldn't have married you."
Nathaniel heard the years of regret and resentment in her voice, the depth of her regret at marrying him.