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Novel Catalog
Chapter 3 Last Will
“You probably haven’t tasted the sweetness of love yet, have you?” Stella’s voice was soft, almost pitying. “You know, when Nathaniel was with me, he would cook for me. Whenever I got sick, he’d be the first to rush to my side. He once told me, ‘Stella, I hope you’re always happy.’” She paused, letting her words sink in. “Ceci, did Nathaniel ever tell you he loved you? He used to tell me that all the time, but I always thought it was childish…”
Cecilia remained silent, absorbing her words. The years she had spent with Nathaniel felt like a blur now. His care had never extended to cooking for her, or rushing to her side when she was sick. Love? Nathaniel had never once spoken those words to her.
Calmly, Cecilia looked at Stella. “Are you done talking?”
Stella blinked, caught off guard. There was something about Cecilia’s serene demeanor, the clarity in her eyes, that made her pause. For a moment, she seemed lost, as if she had forgotten her own strength.
Cecilia turned and walked away, but something in Stella’s gaze shifted. For the briefest of moments, she looked like the scared orphan she once was—the one who had relied on the charity of the Smith family. Behind the polished image of a beloved daughter, she had always been playing a part.
Cecilia could not ignore what Stella had said. She had spent twelve years chasing the man she loved, only to find that he had once been a child, offering the same tenderness to someone else. It stung more than she had anticipated.
Her ear began to throb again. She reached up to remove her hearing aid, only to find it stained with blood. Habitually, she wiped it clean, setting it aside, but the ache in her chest didn’t fade.
Unable to sleep, Cecilia unlocked her phone and opened Instagram. There were multiple posts tagged with her name, and as she scrolled through them, her heart sank further.
The first photo was a snapshot from Nathaniel and Stella’s university days. They stood side by side, their smiles radiant, Nathaniel’s eyes filled with warmth.
The second photo captured a conversation between them, Nathaniel’s message: “Ella, happy birthday. I will make you the happiest person in the world.”
The third showed Nathaniel and Stella, walking hand in hand along a beach, their backs to the camera, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in Cecilia’s heart.
And then the floodgates opened. The fourth, fifth, sixth photos—each more intimate, more personal than the last—took her breath away. The memories they shared seemed to taunt her, as though she were a mere shadow in their past.
She couldn’t bear to see more. With trembling hands, she shut her phone off.
In that moment, Cecilia felt a deep, gnawing need to give up. She couldn’t keep fighting, not when the man she loved had once belonged so fully to someone else.
That evening, she wrote in her private diary, her words raw: I could have endured the darkness, but that was before I had seen the light.
The following morning, Cecilia went through the motions of preparing breakfast, as she always did. But when six o’clock passed and Nathaniel still hadn’t returned, a realization hit her. She had forgotten what he had said earlier: that she no longer needed to make breakfast for him.
Assuming he wouldn’t come home, she sat on the couch, drifting into a light, restless sleep.
“Didn’t I tell you not to make breakfast for me anymore?” Nathaniel’s voice, sharp with impatience, startled her awake.
Cecilia opened her eyes, seeing him stride past her, his back stiff. She quickly apologized. “I’m sorry, I forgot.”
Those same words again. They felt like a weight around her neck.
Nathaniel turned to look at her, his gaze as cold as ice. She was dressed in soft gray, as always—modest, plain. He sneered at her, as if her very existence was an offense to him.
“Why didn’t you forget to come back? Why didn’t you forget that we got 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 the thought of losing me—Nathaniel, your personal money-making machine!”
His words cut through her, each one a deep stab to her heart.
Cecilia lowered her gaze, her voice barely above a whisper. “Nathaniel, I never wanted your money.”
Nathaniel chuckled, his laugh cruel. “So, what’s the story behind your mother coming to my office this morning, asking me to give you a child?”
Cecilia was shocked, confused. Her mind raced, trying to piece together what he meant.
His anger wasn’t about last night—it was something deeper, something he had been stewing over for a long time.
Without waiting for a response, Nathaniel’s voice turned colder. “Cecilia, if you want to keep living comfortably in Daltonia Villa and maintain the Smith family’s stability, you better make sure your mother behaves herself.”
He stormed off to the study, and after a few moments, he returned, changed into a fresh set of clothes, and left without another word.
Cecilia stood frozen, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Before she could gather her thoughts, Paula appeared—her demeanor completely different from before. She walked over to Cecilia, her touch gentle, and took her hand.
“Ceci, you should beg Nathaniel. Ask him to give you a child. Use whatever means necessary, even medical intervention.”
Cecilia stared at her, a mix of disbelief and pain on her face as Paula continued, “Stella has already told me that, in these past three years, Nathaniel never laid a finger on you.”
The words hit Cecilia like a slap. This was it. The truth, finally laid bare.
No empathy. No understanding. Just cold, calculating self-interest.
She couldn’t wrap her mind around why Nathaniel had disclosed such intimate details to Stella. Perhaps he truly loved her.
A strange sense of relief washed over Cecilia as she realized what she needed to do.
“Mom,” she said softly, her voice steady, “let go.”
Paula furrowed her brows, confused. “What did you say?”
“I’m exhausted. I want to divorce Nathaniel…”
Before Cecilia could say another word, Paula slapped her across the face, hard.
Her face burned with the sting of the slap, but it was the words that followed that cut the deepest.
“What makes you think you can talk about divorce? Once you leave the Rainsworth family, who would want to marry a woman like you—handicapped and on her second marriage? How could I have such a worthless daughter like you? You’re nothing like me! If I had known, I would have never brought you back home!”
The words echoed in Cecilia’s mind. She had never been her mother’s ideal. She had always been the unwanted burden—the child with hearing difficulties, the reminder of everything Paula had hoped to escape.
Cecilia stood there, numb. Her mother had never really cared for her. And now, she saw the truth clearly for the first time.
From the very beginning, Cecilia had always been trying to live up to an impossible standard—one that her mother had set, a standard she could never meet.
As Paula left, Cecilia wiped away the tears that had begun to fall, but the numbness inside her remained. She concealed the red handprint on her cheek with makeup and went to a law firm.
At the office, Norman Jenkins, the legal advisor who had served her late father, Regas Smith, took the document she handed him. After reviewing it, he looked up at her, puzzled.
“Are you really going to give all the inheritance your father secretly left you to Nathaniel? You know he doesn’t need the money.”
Cecilia nodded, her expression resolute.
“I know,” she said quietly, “but it’s a debt I owe him. One that I must repay.”
Three years ago, Regas Smith had passed away unexpectedly. He had left behind three wills, each more complex than the last. Knowing Paula’s indifference to Cecilia, Regas had instructed Norman to quietly inform her about the final will. The last one stated that if, after three years of marriage, she found herself unhappy or in need of independence, she could use the inheritance as a way to move forward.
