Summer stared at Tristan's earnest eyes, grappling with the decision she had avoided her entire life. Should she tell him? Should she let him into the parts of her that she had kept locked away, even from herself at times? No one else knew the real story—those who did had witnessed it but never heard it from her lips. Sympathy was not something she ever craved. She detested the way people would look at her, with pity in their eyes, whenever her mother's name was mentioned. Summer was never a victim in her own narrative.
But now, as she looked into Tristan's eyes, there was something different. No pity. No judgment. Only concern.
Her heart ached, and for the first time, it told her to believe in someone. She took a deep breath and, with a voice tinged with bitterness and vulnerability, began speaking.
"On my ninth birthday… I was so excited. I had gotten this beautiful gift and all I wanted was to show my mom. I ran into her room, expecting her to smile and tell me how happy she was... but instead, I found her crying. I didn't understand. I was just a child."
Summer's voice faltered as the memories came flooding back.
"She was sobbing, muttering to herself, 'Why did I have to have her? Why her? What sin did I commit?'"
Summer let out a small, bitter laugh, one that held years of pain.
"I was so young… I didn't understand her words. I just knew that seeing her cry made me cry too. I wanted to comfort her, so I reached out to hug her..."
Her voice cracked slightly, her hands trembling as she remembered the exact moment.
"And she pushed me away. Hard. I fell to the ground, confused and hurt. She looked at me with such disgust and said, never touch me again. Stay away from me. I'll acknowledge you only because the world knows I'm your mother, but don't you dare come near me."
Tristan's eyes widened in shock. He could barely process the cruelty of her words, but he knew there was more.
"Summer… was she not your real mother?" Tristan asked, his voice soft but edged with disbelief.
Summer smiled weakly, the bitterness returning. "I thought the same thing for years. When I turned fifteen, I secretly did a paternity test. Turns out, she is my real mother. Every bit of it. No mistake. She's my biological mother. Plus why would she say to me that she's given birth to a filth"
Tristan's shock deepened. He had hoped there was some mistake, but knowing that this was truly her own flesh and blood made the story even more heart-breaking.
Summer continued, her voice turning distant, as though she were reliving those moments.
"Before my ninth birthday, she loved me. She pampered me. She even scolded my brother if he bothered me too much. I was her little princess. And then, overnight, it all changed. I never knew why."
Her voice grew quieter, as though the weight of the memories was pressing down on her chest.
"She would scream at me for the smallest mistakes. Beat me for things that other kids would barely get scolded for. I was always walking on eggshells, terrified of what would set her off. I tried to be perfect… but nothing worked."
Tristan clenched his fists, his heart heavy with the image of a young Summer, alone, terrified, and constantly striving for a love that had been ripped away from her.
"My father and grandfather were always away on business, so they didn't see it. And my brother... he was just a kid himself. He didn't understand what was happening."
Summer's voice broke, the pain of years of abuse, of never being enough, flooding through her.
One day, after school, Summer found herself facing her mother's fury. As soon as she walked through the door, her mother began beating ruthlessly her without mercy. Pamela's voice was sharp, laced with venom, as she accused her daughter of unspeakable things, claiming she had been behaving vulgarly, chasing after rich boys.
Her grandfather walked in on the scene, and his heart shattered at the sight of his granddaughter being berated and hit. He tried to step in, but Pamela held firm, saying, "I'm just disciplining my daughter. She's becoming a disgrace. Seducing rich guys at the age of 12. What a lousy dirty filth she is!"
Summer remained silent through the ordeal, her heart aching not only from the physical pain but from the words her mother hurled at her. Her grandfather eventually pulled Pamela away, but it was far from over. Summer was grounded and starved for three days. The beating she received was so severe that she suffered from high fever and couldn't even get out of bed for a week.
When her grandfather learned the full extent of what Summer had been enduring—including the things she never voiced—he made the decision to send her to a boarding school abroad. She would come home during breaks but whenever she'd be there her mother would either misbehave or start spouting nonsense about her. It became clear to Summer that her mother couldn't stand the sight of her. Eventually she stopped coming home during breaks or vacations. She rarely came home, even if they lived in the same city. The rare occasions of her homecoming occurred only because the men of her family would miss her terribly. The men in her family—her grandfather, father, and older brother—loved her fiercely, and perhaps they loved her even more to make up for what her mother had denied her.
As Summer shared this with Tristan, his fury grew. "How could she accuse her own daughter, a yound child at that, of something so vile?"
Summer's eyes turned cold, flames of fury simmering in them. "Because someone lied. A boy. And she chose to believe him without ever hearing my side."
The bitterness in her voice echoed through the room, and Tristan struggled to contain the outrage he felt on her behalf. He too knew 'someone' in the past whose mother mistreated her yet she thrived but his Sam is still suffering so much. His heart aches for her.
As Summer continued, her expression softened into something more resolute. "When I turned 21, my grandfather handed the family business to me instead of my brother. That was the final blow for my mother. She couldn't bear that I had taken what she believed belonged to her precious son. She accused me of snatching my brother's birth right, even though he wasn't interested in it. She started slandering me at social gatherings, scheming to ruin my reputation like I slept my way to the position or I was whoring around to get projects. For a long time, it was just verbal attacks—until a month ago."
Summer paused, her breath steadying as she prepared to reveal the latest wound.
"There was a masquerade ball at the Grandeur Hotel, an event I attended for business reasons. But my mother had other plans. She worked with people, had me drugged, hoping to get me raped and taped just to embarrass me publicly, to ruin me. So, that I'll have to naturally give up the position in the company to my brother." She chuckled, raising her chin defiantly. "But I'm not so easily tricked. I saw through it all and escaped. She failed. And the worst part is she admitted her doings without any remorse calling me an ingrate because I ruined her plan."
Summer's eyes sparkled with a mix of defiance and amusement as she continued, "I escaped into a stranger's suite, lucky for me, it was a man—probably a gigolo. I had no choice, so I threatened him to help me... you know, relieve the drug effects. And he did."
Tristan's face froze mid-expression.
That was her!