Page 74 of Bittersweet Legacy

Archie looked weary. “Yes, Esmeralda, I’ve said all I needed to say.”

I gestured toward the door. “Consider me warned. Leave now.”

He took a step forward, opening his mouth but shook his head, swirled around and marched out.

OK then…

Chapter 16

I was shaking with anticipation, pacing around my bedroom looking at the alarm clock every few minutes. It was true what Einstein had said about time being relative. It felt like I’d been in my room for hours and it was only 6:52pm.

I fell back on my bed with a cry of frustration, two more hours to find out if my day out and blatant betrayal of Caleb’s flimsy trust was enough.

I stared sullenly at the chemistry book I’d given up on about 30 minutes ago. After reading the same page 17 times, I decided that studying was not on the cards tonight.

I didn’t want to get angry and read the stupid guide of theGood Socialite Woman– every new chapter I read made me want to start a revolution.

I contemplated watching something on TV but I also knew that nothing would catch my attention either.

I dragged my eyes to my bookshelf and to the book titled ‘Roman history’ which was just a cover for my mother’s journal, If I’d learned anything in my life it was to hide everything in plain sight.

I didn’t want to go through it too fast, lose this final connection to the woman who gave me life and who I’d never known.

I looked at the clock again. 7:03. No, seriously, had time actually stopped?

I checked that my door was locked securely before getting the journal and laying back in my bed, opening it carefully and setting my bookmark aside.

I don’t regret giving you away, Esmeralda, but don’t think a day goes by when I don’t miss you, that I don’t wish I was by your side. Today is even harder because you’re turning five – I can’t help but wonder what you are growing up to be. What do you like? Are you an artist?Are you sporty? Do you look like me or did you, like your brother, take after your father?

I looked away from the journal, reflecting on her words. She wrote this on my birthday, just weeks before her untimely demise. I closed my eyes, willing my tears away. I didn’t think I could grieve my mother for a second time and yet I was grieving in ways I didn’t think I could and I was so alone in this. Nobody to talk to, nobody to seek comfort from – it made it so much harder than it ought to be.

Would she be disappointed with what I became? How I wasted the freedom she paid so dearly to give me? A freedom I took for granted and wasted on pining over Ben and imagining what life could be instead of trying to make it the way I wanted?

As for my looks, I hoped she would have been pleased to see that a part of her carried on through me, I was a curvier version of her, it was an advantage and curse, but I was pleased with this – now more than ever.

I took a deep breath and resumed my reading.

Thinking of you breaks my heart, my little girl, I hope Luke is being a good father, showing a love I wish I could share with you – a love your father is clearly not sharing with Archibald. He is such an amazing little boy, an artistic, sensitive soul, or at least he is meant to be and I’m trying to preserve this side of him, but your father is much more powerful inside and outside this house. My precious little boy is changing every day. I see it, he is becoming more and more like his father and I’m dreading the day he will be gone completely. I keep wondering if I could have saved him the way I saved you. I’m not proud of the choice I made.

I thought, because he was a boy, things would be different, he would have a chance and with at least one heir your father would be satisfied.

But I realise now I must save him too, I can’t lose you both and by staying here, living this life with a man I have come to despise I will lose you both – Archibald in the most soul-crushing way.

I sighed, rolling onto my back staring at the white ceiling and rose-shaped light fixtures. She had been so right about my brother being in danger and my father succeeding where my mother had failed. Archie was my father’s son. Dark, commanding, heartless, selfish… and somehow, I still wanted to love him, I still wantedhimto loveme.

I rolled my eyes at my own foolishness and concentrated on the journal once more.

I wanted to take him to you, Esmeralda, did I succeed? Are you two as close as I hoped you would become?

Oh, the irony, I wished, though: “I tried mom, I really tried.”

I’m close to making it out and saving your brother too. There are two things you need to save yourself Esmeralda – money and power. Information and secrets will get you that power. Are you planning to save yourself? I hope you are; I hope he has not crushed your spirit into thinking this life is all you can get. I’m hoping this journal will be helping you get out, that it will guide you and help you not to repeat the mistakes I made.

I looked down at my finger and grimaced at the ugly ring sat on it, my eyes flickered to the walk-in closet full of Dior, Chanel, Prada, Gucci and others. Yeah, money to run away was not a problem but I had no secrets, no information… no power, but I was going to have help. I looked at the clock, only 30 minutes to go and maybe the help I would get could make up for the information?

What I couldn’t understand was why my mother was escaping alone that night. She clearly wanted to save Archie and yet – I sighed. At least it was a small blessing, if he had been in the car too… I shuddered at the thought because it didn’t matter how estranged Archie and I were, it didn’t matter how much he might hate me, I didn’t want him to get hurt. He was clearly not born like that, my mom’s journal and Taylor words were proof enough, he was not born a calculating cold bastard, no, he became one and I would have given anything to fix him.

At 8:50pm I gave up on the journal as my levels of both dread and apprehension reached their peak, and the more I read, the more questions I had.

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