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chapter162 

She sat in front of the mirror, gazing at the woman reflected there. 

She had grown old. 

No matter how well she took care of herself, fine lines had already appeared at the corners of her eyes. 

The man lying beside her-whether he had changed or not, how could she not know? 

She had simply thought that all married couples lived this way. 

She simply felt that after so many years, it was normal for feelings to fade. 

But she never expected that Clayton would say, in front of their children, that she didn’t understand anything. 

Back then, he had told her: “I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life. All you have to do is be my princess.” 

And now… 

When Claudine came in, she happened to see her mother crying in front of the mirror. 

Her 

eyes 

dimmed slightly, knowing her mother must be feeling heartbroken at this moment. 

But she also knew it was time for her mother to face reality. 

She walked into the room and came up behind her mother. 

“Mom…” 

Claudine hugged her mother’s shoulders, offering her silent comfort. 

Bridgette patted her daughter, reassuring her. 

Claudine knew what her mother was thinking; what her mother was going through now, she herself had once experi- enced. 

She understood that what her mother needed most at this moment was not words of comfort, but to see her own value. 

“Mom, I have a surprise for you.” 

With that, she took her mother’s hand and led her out of the room. 

“Where are you taking me?” 

Although Bridgette asked this, she still let her daughter lead her along. 

Claudine led her mother up to the third floor. 

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They stopped at the door of a room. Claudine moved behind her mother and covered her mother’s eyes. 

“Mom, are you ready?” 

Bridgette smiled and said, “What surprise do you have for me?” 

With one hand, Claudine pushed open the door. “You’ll know when you see it.” 

She removed her hand from her mother’s eyes and turned on the light in the room. 

The sudden brightness made Bridgette uncomfortable for a moment. When she finally saw the things and arrange- ments in the room clearly, she stood there in a daze. 

“This is…” 

She looked around. The room was filled with theatrical costumes she had once worn on stage, and the walls were cov- ered with photos from her touring days. 

Looking at those photos, Bridgette seemed to see herself from years ago, singing “Dido and Aeneas” on stage. 

She couldn’t help but hum softly: “Dreams return with the warbling of orioles, time in chaos passes by. Alone in the deep courtyard.” 

As the song ended, Bridgette’s eyes were already moist. 

Claudine applauded her mother from the side. 

“That was beautiful. Mom, I still remember when I was little and refused to go to bed, you would sing ‘Dido and Ae- neas’ to me. 

“Back then, I thought my mom was so beautiful, with such a lovely voice, the best mom in the world.” 

Bridgette raised her hand to wipe away the tears at the corner of her eyes. 

Her gaze swept over each of those photos, and she sighed. 

“I’m old now, I can’t sing anymore.” 

Claudine pulled her mother to sit down in front of the dressing table. 

Looking at her mother in the mirror, she spoke with utmost seriousness, word by word. 

“Mom, in my heart, you will always be the best mother. 

“But I don’t want you to be just my mom, just Mrs. Hogan. Look at this room-back then, you were the famous opera diva Bridgette. 

“You started training at three, joined the Reedport Opera Troupe at twelve, and represented the country in overseas performances at fourteen. 

“Mom, you’re not just a clueless rich lady. You are Bridgette, the opera diva, Bridgette!” 

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Her daughter’s words moved Bridgette to tears. 

She looked at herself in the mirror. Slowly, it was as if she saw her former self reflected there. 

Her performance of “Dido and Aeneas” was still considered the textbook version in the troupe. Even after all these years, she could still remember the lines. 

Claudine seemed to sense her mother’s thoughts. 

She walked into her closet and picked out a gorgeous theatrical costume her mother used to wear when performing. 

She handed the theatrical costume to her mother and asked her to put it on. 

Soon, a clear and melodious voice echoed in the room. 

Claudine listened quietly by her mother’s side. 

From the moment she put on the theatrical costume, Bridgette seemed to return to the past. 

Even though she hadn’t been on stage for nearly thirty years, this performance of “Dido and Aeneas” had long since become part of her blood. 

“Ah, Belinda, I am prest with torment!” 

When the song ended, Bridgette sat motionless in her chair. 

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