Confusing Truths
You were born of love. Not scandal. Not shame. Real love. The kind that burned, that wasn’t supposed to happen. And it did anyway.
I was so young. Too young.
My parents used me like a pawn—offering me to men with names and fortunes, dangling my future in exchange for their pride and debt. One day it was Sebastian Vaughn. The next… it was someone else. A different last name. A bigger estate. A better title. He was awful to me. And I made the biggest mistake of my life. I do not want to recall and I can't say it here but…I hope you never find out.
They tossed me like I was currency.
But I found love when I wasn’t supposed to.
Your father wasn’t the man they wanted me to choose. He wasn’t wealthy in the ways they understood. He didn’t care about parties or politics. But God, Remi, he loved me. In every quiet moment. In every stolen kiss. We planned to run away, to live simply. To raise you far from all the noise.
But the world we came from doesn’t let girls like me just leave. As you know, your father or the man that I love isn't your real father. And the man that I love, His family… would never have accepted you. Me. Us.
They knew who your real father was. He was too powerful. Too feared. And they—his people—could smell scandal like blood in the water.
We tried to hide. We made plans. But I was already being watched.
And then one day, I was told I had no choice.
They gave me a husband.
Not the one I chose.
Not the one who loved me.
But the one who signed the contract.
And I said yes, because I was scared. Because I thought I could protect you if I played along.
But it never worked. And eventually, I left. I had to.
I never stopped thinking about you. Not for a second.
And still, I failed you.
How can I give you love when I never found it for myself?
I was so full of pain I didn’t know how to hold anything else. I never got the chance to be a mother. Not a real one. And I’m sorry.
I’m sorry I abandoned you.
I’m sorry I left you in a world I barely survived myself.
I’m sorry you had to grow up thinking love was something you had to earn.
We’re going on a trip. Me and him. One last chance.
If this letter reaches you… I didn’t make it back.
Keep your head down, Remi. If they ever find you, say nothing.
Power breeds enemies.
But you, I raised you to be able to stomp on such enemies.
Love always,
Harper
I didn’t realize I was crying until the words blurred.
Tears fell quietly down my cheeks, soaking into the delicate ink like the letter was crying with me.
I clutched the paper to my chest, curling over it like I could pull her back through the words. Like I could hear her voice if I listened hard enough.
She was gone.
And still, she felt so close.
I didn’t know how to feel. My heart was breaking and rebuilding at the same time. The mother I’d cursed for years, the woman I thought had abandoned me without a second glance—she was just a girl.
A scared, silenced girl who never had a choice.
I wiped at my cheeks, but the tears kept coming in quiet waves. My fingers gripped the letter like it was the only proof she’d ever existed. Harper. That was her name. Not "Mum," not even "Mother." Just Harper. A woman who had loved, suffered, and lost too much.
And still… tried to love me from afar.
I sat there for what felt like hours, the letter pressed to my chest, rocking gently like I was trying to hold my grief together.
Then my eyes shifted.
To the desk.
To the flash drive.
The one that had fallen out of the envelope dropped by the stranger at the gala. The man who had shoved it into Rowan’s hand with shaking fingers and no explanation. The one we hadn’t touched. Not yet.
My tears dried, but something heavier settled in my chest. A low buzz of dread.
Rowan had left it beside my documents earlier, not realizing it had slid out again and rested by my elbow.
I picked it up slowly.
The weight was insignificant—but I felt it like a brick.
Did I want to know more?
Could I handle it?
My thumb grazed over the scratched surface of the flash drive. Whatever was in here… someone had hidden it for a reason.
My mother’s words echoed in my mind.
“If they ever find you, say nothing. Power breeds enemies.”
I stood up.
Walked to Rowan’s study.
He wasn’t home yet. And maybe that was for the best.
With shaking hands, I plugged the flash drive into his laptop and waited as the folder opened.
One single video file.
No name. No timestamp.
Just a black thumbnail.
I clicked it.
The screen flickered.
And then it began to play.
And the first voice I heard…
Was my mother’s.
“I don’t know how much of this you’ll understand, Remi,” she said gently, her voice trembling even through the screen, “but I hope one day, when you’re older, you’ll watch this and… maybe forgive me.”
The video flickered, and then I saw him—the man I grew up calling my father.
He was sitting on the floor, a younger version of me toddling toward him in a pink dress with ruffles. He was laughing, catching me in his arms, spinning me slightly as I giggled.
I remembered that day.
I didn’t realize it had been recorded.
The camera shifted, showing my mother—Harper—sitting on a couch, her face soft, but distant. She looked worn down. Like someone who had tried to carry too much for too long.
“I married Grant,” she said, folding her hands on her lap. “It was never love. It was survival. His family had money. Mine had debt. That’s how most of the marriages in our family work—like currency. A girl born in our bloodline learns early that love isn’t part of the contract. Obedience is. We owe a lot of families hence our bodies as women are sold to these…men. .”
She looked away from the camera for a moment, like the truth was too much to face even now. “I was supposed to marry Sebastian Vaughn,” she said with a bitter laugh. “Yes. That Vaughn. Rich and everything.”
My mouth went dry.
“But he was too old. Too cruel. And too busy bedding women half his age. He called off the engagement himself—told my family I wasn’t fresh enough.” She didn’t even blink as she said it. “So they handed me off to Grant. No dowry. Just debt they couldn’t afford to keep.”
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
