I walked hand in hand with Zavid toward the room where my so-called mother and sister waited. My steps were steady, but my heart felt like it was carrying the weight of years of pain and anger. Mom Zoe had always said I was too soft, too weak to handle the world, but life had taught me differently. If anything, I had hardened in ways she could never have imagined. Today, I would prove it.
"Are you ready?" Zavid asked, his voice gentle yet firm. He squeezed my hand, grounding me in the moment.
"Yeah," I replied, my voice low but filled with absolute determination. I wasn't walking into this battle unarmed. I had my resolve, my truth, and the scars that had shaped me into who I was today.
We entered the room, and the noise of their chatter immediately grated on my nerves. They sat there, laughing as though they hadn't ripped my life apart.
"Ms. and Mrs. Davis," I addressed them formally, my tone sharp enough to cut glass. "To what do I owe this visit?"
Their laughter halted abruptly, and I could see the surprise flicker in their eyes. It was clear they hadn't expected this version of me.
"Celestina, is that how you talk to your mother?" Antonella screeched, her voice as irritating as nails on a chalkboard.
"Mother?" I scoffed, crossing my arms. "Have you forgotten I severed all bonds with your so-called family years ago?"
Antonella's eyes widened in shock, but she quickly recovered, her voice rising in indignation. "Since you've found your dad is Mr. ___, have you forgotten about the people who cared for you?"
Her words made me laugh, but it wasn't a laugh of joy or amusement. It was bitter, hollow, and filled with every ounce of pain they had caused me. "Cared for me? That's rich coming from you."
---
"Care," I repeated, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. "Since when did any of you care?" My voice rose slightly, and I could feel the weight of the employees' eyes on me. Let them watch. Let them hear. I didn't care anymore.
"I did everything myself," I continued, my voice steadier now. "From the time I was a kid until now, I've fought every battle alone. And if it wasn't for the nanny who took care of me when I was sick, I wouldn't even be standing here today. I'd be dead."
I turned to Mom Zoe, my so-called mother, who sat frozen in her chair. Her face was pale, her lips trembling as though she had something to say but lacked the courage to speak.
"And you," I said, my voice sharper now, "what did you do when that incident happened? If it wasn't for the nanny stepping in, I would've been ruined."
Her face turned from pale to red, anger or shame—I couldn't tell. "How is that my fault?" she finally said, her voice shaky.
I took a step closer, leaning in until my lips were near her ear. My voice dropped to a whisper, laced with venom. "You would rather have your child almost raped by her own stepfather than protect her."
Her breath hitched, and I stepped back, watching the color drain from her face. I turned to the room, addressing everyone now.
"If all mothers are like you," I said loudly, my voice echoing, "then billions of children would commit suicide."
Gasps filled the room, but I didn't care. Inside, I was hurting, but I refused to let it show. After all, who wouldn't hurt if their own mother had betrayed them like this?
---
"Why are you even here?" I asked, my patience wearing thin.
Mom Zoe straightened in her chair, trying to regain her composure. "Your husband and dad are causing our company to incur losses," she said stiffly.
"So?" I replied, my tone indifferent.
"How is that my fault?" I asked, throwing her own words back at her.
"You know what, making you make losses is nothing I would've preferred," she snapped, her voice rising. "If they wanted to ruin the company, they should've done it all at once. But no, they're dragging it out, taking it slow."
Her words made me laugh—another cold, empty sound that filled the room. "If they want to toy with your company, why are you complaining? You'll only lose money, not lives."
I turned to Rose, my assistant, who stood silently by the door. "Have the security throw them out," I said firmly. "And make sure no Davis is allowed on the premises again."
Rose nodded, her expression unreadable, and I turned back to Mom Zoe. "Leave. Now."
With that, I walked away, leaving them stunned and speechless.
"Zavid," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper as I stared at the dimly lit skyline outside the window.
"Yes, love," he replied, lifting his head from his phone.
"Do you think I'm heartless?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly.
He stood up, walking toward me with slow, deliberate steps. He reached for my hand, pulling me gently to my feet.
"No," he said firmly, looking straight into my eyes.
"Of course, you would say no," I muttered, averting my gaze.
"Celeste," he said, his voice low but commanding. "Look into my eyes."
I hesitated but finally met his gaze. His eyes held a warmth I hadn't felt in years.
"Do you know what I see?" he asked.
"No," I whispered.
"I see a kind, brave woman," he said, his voice steady. "I see a bird that is now free from its cage. I see the woman I love. I see you for who you are."
His words hit me like a tidal wave, and tears welled up in my eyes.
"Love me?" he asked softly.
"Yes," I choked out. "I love you."
I took a step back, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.
"I…" I stammered, unable to find the words.
"It's okay," he said gently, his voice soothing. "I don't want an answer now."
He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead, then my eyelids, and finally, my mouth.
"Do you trust me?" Zavid asked, his voice a quiet murmur against the stillness of the room.
I nodded, unable to form words.
He leaned in, his forehead resting against mine. Slowly, he tilted his head, giving me time to pull away if I wanted to. But I didn't.
Our lips met in a soft, lingering kiss. I felt his arms wrap around me, pulling me closer. My hands instinctively reached up, threading through his hair as I held on to him like he was my anchor.
In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the pain, not the betrayal, not the scars of my past. For the first time in a long time, I felt safe. I felt loved.
And for the first time, I allowed myself to believe that maybe, just maybe, I deserved it.