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“Oh, before you leave,” Moritz says, handing me a letter. “This was addressed to you. We found it when searching your mother’s apartment. She was living in a semi-permanent rental in the city.”
“Thank you.” My voice is a whisper. I’m not sure I want to know what’s inside. Perhaps she’s given me a reason for leaving, but then again, maybe she’s written all the lies she could’ve told me to my face in the letter.
I have a choice.
Do I want to know?
Or do I move forward, putting her behind me?
I’ve been sitting on the couch staring at the letter for hours. Logan made dinner, we’ve eaten, and now he’s at his desk working on something for Dax while I debate whether I should open the can of worms my mother left me.
“You know you don’t have to open it,” he tells me from where he’s seated.
I glance over at him, smiling at him as he looks at me over his dark-rimmed glasses. “I know. I just . . . it’s the unknown that keeps niggling at me. You know?”
“I get it, but don’t force yourself to do something that may hurt you.” He stands, makes his way over to me, and pulls me to my feet. “I’m here for you. No matter what.” Logan presses a kiss to my forehead before he leaves me and heads down the hallway until I’m alone.
I pick up the envelope and rip it open. Pulling out the letter, I unfold it slowly, my fingers trembling. I allow my eyes to scan the page.
Vera Rose,
Growing up in our family, with our name, it was never easy to make a life for yourself because there were certain things expected of you. I learned from a young age to agree, no matter what. My father already had my marriage arranged to Stephen before I could ever tell him I was in love with someone else.
Sadly, I didn’t fight. I didn’t run. I walked down the aisle, and I was Mrs. Conried before I was ready. My heart craved to be an Oakridge because they had everything. That is until your father came into his own, and suddenly, I was no longer a poor girl married to a man who wasn’t anywhere near the upper-class society I craved. But as much as your father tried to give me, I never loved him.
After having you, I thought it would change. I thought I would change. But my heart wasn’t in it, and I walked away. I am not a mother. I never claimed to be. What I wanted though, was the name I’d admired for most of my life. When I saw you were in line to claim that last name, I was angry.
I was jealous.
My daughter would have the one thing I always wanted.
I hated you.
I wanted you to pay.
And that’s when I knew what I had to do—take your firstborn. I would finally gain the fortune, the name, and everything that came with it. I knew Herbert would leave everything to your child because Logan never wanted that life.
The information about Herbert killing his wife because she was planning to leave him, along with his embezzlement, wasn’t enough. At least that’s what I believed. But when I found out, he was running an underground sex trafficking ring for, under eighteens, I knew I had him.
The fear in that man’s eyes was nothing short of bliss for me. For years he thought I was nothing more than a whore who spread her legs, but what he didn’t realize is, I’m shrewd, and I’m good.
I wanted everything he had. Including a grandchild because I knew you wouldn’t forgive me for leaving. But I was blinded, I didn’t care, all I wanted was the money, the name, and the respect.
But if you’re reading this, I failed.
I made mistakes.
And I don’t expect forgiveness; I just needed you to know. You may never understand, and that’s okay.
Goodbye, Vera Rose. Take care of the name you’re going to gain.
I flip the page around, but there’s nothing else. Her final words to me weren’t I love you, darling, or something like that. Instead, she was more concerned about a fucking name.
I head to the kitchen. Flicking on the gas burner, I hold the page to the flame and watch it ignite. Slowly, the white page turns black as my past burns away with my thoughts of a mother who might have loved me.
“Are you okay?” Logan asks from behind me.
Once the letter is gone, I turn to regard him. “I’m just fine. Nothing I needed in there anyway. I’m stronger without her, and I realized something,” I tell him, stepping into his hold. “I’m nothing like her, and it’s the best thing I’ve come to realize about myself.”
And I know it’s the truth. I never want to be anything like a woman who could do what she did. One day, when I do have a baby, he or she will know love, happiness, and a family that doesn’t forsake you for material things. I’ll love that child because it’s a part of Logan and me.
