Chapter 3: Last Will
“You probably haven’t experienced the sweetness of love, have you?” Stella said. “When Nathaniel was with me, he cooked for me, and he was always the first to my side when I was sick. He once told me, ‘Stella, I hope you’re always happy…’ Ceci, did Nathaniel ever tell you he loved you? He told me all the time, but I always thought he was being childish…”
Cecilia listened silently, reflecting on her three years with Nathaniel. He had never entered the kitchen, never expressed concern for her illness, and never spoken of love. Calmly, she replied, “Are you done?”
Stella was startled by Cecilia’s composure and unwavering gaze. She remained dazed until Cecilia left, suddenly feeling like the impoverished orphan she once was, the Smith family’s daughter a carefully constructed façade. Cecilia, of course, couldn't ignore Stella's words. Twelve years of pursuing the man she adored, only to discover his innocent, passionate love for another—the pain in her ear returned. Removing her hearing aid, she saw blood staining it and wiped it clean before setting it aside.
Unable to sleep, she opened Instagram and saw numerous tagged posts from Stella, a private album filled with photographs. The first showed Stella and Nathaniel in university; Nathaniel's eyes held a gentle warmth. The second was a screenshot of a conversation: Nathaniel affectionately wrote, “Ella, happy birthday. I will make you the happiest person in the world.” The third showed them hand-in-hand on a beach, their backs to the camera. Countless more followed, overwhelming Cecilia. She stopped scrolling, abruptly switching off her phone, feeling a profound sense of despair. That day, she wrote in her diary: "I could have endured the darkness, but that was before I had seen the light."
The next day, she routinely prepared breakfast. Only after six o'clock, with Nathaniel still absent, did she remember his announcement that he no longer needed breakfast made. Assuming he wouldn't return, she fell asleep on the couch.
“Didn’t I tell you not to make breakfast for me anymore?” Nathaniel's impatient voice startled her awake. He walked past her. She apologized, “I’m sorry, I forgot.”
Again, those words. He turned, his gaze icy. Her modest gray clothes seemed to highlight her perceived penury, suggesting his alleged mistreatment. “Why didn’t you forget to come back? Why didn’t you forget we’re married? Why didn’t you forget yourself? You can’t bear to leave me, can you? You can’t let go of the Rainsworth family’s wealth! You can’t stand losing me, Nathaniel, your personal money-making machine!” His words cut deeply. Cecilia lowered her gaze. “Nathaniel, I never wanted your money.”
He laughed, a mocking sound. “So, what’s the story behind your mother visiting my office this morning, asking me to give you a child?” Cecilia was stunned. His anger stemmed from something beyond last night’s revelations. He didn’t waste time on pleasantries. “Cecilia, if you want to continue living comfortably in Daltonia Villa and keep the Smith family stable, you better make sure your mother behaves herself.”
He rushed to the study, changed clothes, and left. Before Cecilia could seek out Paula, her mother approached, a stark contrast to her earlier indifference. Gently taking Cecilia’s hand, she said, “Ceci, you should beg Nathaniel. Ask him for a child, even if it means medical intervention.”
Cecilia listened intently. “Stella already told me Nathaniel never touched you in these three years.”
This was the breaking point. In this world, self-interest reigned supreme. Cecilia couldn't understand why Nathaniel confided in Stella. Perhaps he truly loved her… A sense of relief washed over her. “Mom, let go.”
Paula frowned. “What did you say?”
“I’m exhausted. I want a divorce…”
A harsh slap landed on Cecilia’s face. Paula’s image as a kind mother shattered as she accused, “What makes you think you can talk about divorce? Once you leave the Rainsworth family, who would want to marry a handicapped woman, already remarried? How could I have such a worthless daughter? You’re nothing like me! If I had known, I would never have brought you home!”
Cecilia felt numb. Paula had never truly accepted her. A renowned dancer, Paula had always worried about her hearing-impaired daughter, entrusting her to a nanny until school age. Cecilia remembered a teacher saying no mother would despise their child, so she strove for excellence—dancing, music, painting, languages—to please her mother. Now she understood: no matter how hard she tried, she’d never be good enough. She was handicapped, not just physically, but in her family life and relationships.
After Paula left, Cecilia concealed the handprint with makeup and visited a law firm. Norman Jenkins, her late father’s legal advisor, accepted her authorization letter. His expression was puzzled. “Are you really giving all of Mr. Smith’s secret inheritance to Nathaniel? He doesn’t need the money.”
Cecilia nodded. “I know, but it’s a debt I owe him.”
Three years earlier, Regas Smith had died, leaving behind three wills. Knowing Paula’s feelings, he'd instructed Norman to inform Cecilia about the last will, which allowed her to use the inheritance after three years of marriage if she was unhappy or wished to pursue her own path.