Chapter 163 163

Chapter 163 163
RYAN

The sound of the doorbell pulled me from my thoughts, and for a brief moment I simply stared toward the front door, trying to think of anyone who might have reason to visit me after everything that had happened over the past few days. I wasn't expecting anyone, and if I was being honest with myself, I wasn't in the mood for company either.

Still, the bell rang a second time.

With a quiet sigh, I crossed the living room and pulled the door open, only for my brows to rise in surprise.

Standing on my porch with her hands elegantly clasped in front of her was Vivian Cavendish.

For several long seconds, neither of us spoke.

"What are you doing here?" I finally asked.

Instead of answering, her sharp eyes wandered past me, taking in every corner of the house that was visible from the entrance. She examined the expensive furniture, the polished hardwood floors, and the artwork hanging on the walls before wrinkling her nose almost imperceptibly.

"I see you've done rather well for yourself," she observed.

Before I could respond, she brushed past me and stepped into the house with the confidence of someone who had no intention of waiting for an invitation.

I slowly closed the door behind her, my confusion growing with every passing second.

"I asked you a question."

"So you did," she replied calmly as she turned to face me. "I'm simply deciding whether you're worth answering."

I folded my arms across my chest, refusing to be intimidated by the woman who had thrown me out of Hong Kong only days ago.

"If you're here to insult me again, you're wasting your time."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

"I've actually come to apologize."

That was the last thing I had expected to hear.

"You've come to do what?"

"I misjudged you."

A humorless laugh escaped me.

"Misjudged me?"

She nodded.

"I was... harsher than I should have been."

"Harsher?" I repeated, unable to hide the disbelief in my voice. "Mrs. Cavendish, you didn't dismiss me. You had me escorted out of your country."

For the first time since she arrived, something that looked remarkably close to regret crossed her face.

"I suppose I did."

The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable, but it was heavy, as though both of us were carefully choosing which words deserved to be spoken next.

Finally, she lifted her gaze to mine.

"Tell me something, Ryan."

I waited.

"After everything that has happened, after everything your family has done to my granddaughter and after everything she has put you through in return, why do you still love her?"

The question caught me so completely off guard that I simply stared at her.

"What?"

She didn't repeat herself.

Instead, she regarded me with the same calm expression she'd worn since arriving.

"It would be easier to walk away, wouldn't it?"

I let out a slow breath.

"Yes."

"And yet you haven't."

I looked toward the window overlooking the street before answering, because somehow it was easier than looking directly into her eyes.

"Because loving Emily has never been the difficult part."

Vivian remained silent, giving me the space to continue.

"The difficult part," I admitted quietly, "was realizing far too late that I wasn't the man she needed when she needed me the most.”

The weight of those memories settled heavily on my chest.

"I failed her."

Vivian studied me for several moments before speaking again.

"So despite everything... you still love her."

A tired smile crossed my face.

"I don't think I'll ever stop."

She nodded once, almost as though I'd just given the answer she'd been hoping to hear.

"Good."

I frowned.

"Good?"

Without responding immediately, she reached into her handbag and withdrew a neatly folded file before placing it on the coffee table between us.

"I've begun putting certain proceedings into motion against Cecilia."

My jaw tightened instinctively.

"I intend to make sure she answers for every crime she has committed against my family, and unlike the last time, I have no intention of showing mercy."

I didn't question her determination. If there was one thing I'd learned about Vivian Cavendish, it was that she never made empty threats.

"There is one thing you should know before I continue."

I waited.

"If I pursue this the way I intend to, your mother will not recover from what is coming."

The room fell silent.

"You won't like my methods, Ryan, and there is a very real possibility that you'll hate me for them before this is over."

She stepped closer until only the coffee table separated us.

"So answer me honestly."

I met her unwavering gaze.

"If Emily chooses to forgive you one day, can you live with knowing that her grandmother is the woman who destroyed your mother's life?"

The question lingered between us, demanding an answer I wasn't sure I possessed.

Because despite everything mom had done...

Despite the lies.

Despite the manipulation.

Despite the unimaginable pain she'd caused Emily...

She was still my mother.

I closed my eyes briefly before opening them again.

"I won't pretend I won't grieve the woman who raised me," I admitted honestly. "No matter what she's done, losing her in any sense will still hurt."

Vivian listened without interrupting.

"But I also won't ask Emily to keep grieving the childhood my mother stole from her just so I can feel better about myself. She has already sacrificed more than anyone ever should, and I refuse to ask her for another piece of herself. I love your granddaughter so much that sometimes it physically hurts to breathe."

The confession came easier than I expected because there was no longer any point pretending otherwise.

"But she doesn't want me anymore."

No sooner had the words left my mouth than the sound of the doorbell echoed through the house once again.

Vivian's eyes shifted toward the entrance, and mine followed a second later.

Neither of us spoke as I walked toward the door, my heart inexplicably beginning to race.

The moment I pulled it open, the world around me seemed to stop.

Emily stood on my porch, drenched from head to toe beneath the steady rain. Strands of wet hair clung to her face, her clothes were soaked through, and her chest rose and fell with uneven breaths as though she'd run all the way here without stopping.

She looked from me to Vivian.

Then back at me.

The look in her eyes told me everything I needed to know.

She had heard enough.