Chapter 17
Cynthia had long grown used to keeping everything bottled up. She never spoke of her pain-not even to the people who genuinely cared about her. But it hadn’t always been this way.
She used to be sweet, a little spoiled even, the kind of girl who could wrap people around her finger without ever being annoying. Adorable, really. She used to laugh with Mrs. Tracey and complain about trivial things, just to get a little
attention.
But everything changed the moment Morinne Ayla entered Alexander Lowell’s life.
Since then, Cynthia had become someone else entirely. Guarded. Withdrawn. The kind of girl who made people wonder-
just how much had she been forced to endure?
Mrs. Tracey’s eyes shimmered with something close to sorrow. But when she looked back at Alexander, that hint of
tenderness vanished, replaced by cold disappointment and a touch of disdain.
“I told you once,” she said flatly, “if you ever stopped treating Cindy right, I would take her back. And you swore to me-
promised-you never would. But now? It’s obvious you didn’t keep that promise.”
Her voice wasn’t sharp, but every word landed like a blade.
“From this day forward, Cindy belongs to our family. If you couldn’t treasure her, we will.”
Alexander froze for a second, visibly stunned.
Had he really treated her so poorly?
But then all the memories from the past few weeks came crashing back-everything she’d suffered, everything he hadn’t
seen, or chose not to see. The look in her eyes the day she let go. The pain he had caused.
“I’m sorry…” he murmured, eyes cast downward.
It was the first time Alexander Lowell had ever lowered his proud head.
“I’m so sorry…”
Mrs. Tracey gave a cold laugh, not the least bit moved.
“You owe that apology to Cindy-not to me. Whether she forgives you or not, that’s something you’ll have to live with. It
was your mistake.” With that, she moved to shut the door in his face.
She thought that would be the end of it. But just before the door clicked shut, Alexander’s hand slammed against it,
stopping it cold.
“Mrs. Tracey, please-I need to talk to Cindy. Everything that happened… it was my fault, and I’ll explain it all. But she can’t
marry Nathan. She doesn’t love him!”
Before anyone could react, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Smack!
The sharp sound of a slap echoed through the entryway.
Alexander’s head snapped to the side, his cheek instantly reddening from the blow. He touched the swelling with his tongue, lips curling into a bitter smile.
Chapter 17
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Mr. Tracey rushed forward to steady his wife, his gaze ice-cold and penetrating.
“You think she doesn’t love Nathan?” His voice boomed with contempt. “What makes you think she still loves you?”
“We’ve let a lot slide for the sake of peace, but you-you’re the one who threw her away. So now you want to take her back? On what grounds? That pathetic, cowardly love you’ve never had the guts to speak out loud?”
His words were cutting, merciless.
“The Traceys are no weaker than the Lowells now. If you want to fight us for Cindy, go ahead and try. But know this-we will never force her to do anything. And you?”
He didn’t finish the sentence, but the meaning was clear. You never deserved her.
Alexander stood in silence, his expression crumbling into something raw and devastated.
“I have to talk to her,” he said hoarsely. “Cindy loves me, I know she does. If she gives me the chance, I’ll explain
everything. It was all just a misunderstanding-just a terrible, terrible mistake…”
Before he could finish, the sound of footsteps echoed down the staircase.
Cynthia Aquil descended slowly, one hand resting lightly on Ethan’s arm for support. She looked pale but composed, like
someone who had already accepted the ending long before it came.
“Uncle Alex,” she said, her voice quiet but steady, “a misunderstanding? Really?”
She paused at the foot of the stairs, lifting her gaze to meet his.
“Wasn’t today supposed to be your wedding day? You and Aunt Morinne? What are you doing here?”
She had come downstairs only because of the noise, never expecting to find him standing in the Tracey foyer.
She had thought she might never see him again.
And yet-here he was.
Alexander didn’t speak. He just stood there, staring at her, the weight of a thousand regrets tightening around his throat.
