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Chapter 10
Madeline was utterly taken aback by Lucas’s words. She never anticipated him discovering the truth, especially not in such a manner. But she regained her composure swiftly, a flash of surprise flickering across her face.
“Did your father tell you this?” she inquired, her voice quivering with a practiced sorrow.
“My son, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to claim you. It was your father—he stopped me at every turn.” Her voice faltered, laden with meaning. “And… my relationship with Elise…”
She let her words trail off suggestively.
“If she’d known you were my son, she might have done something drastic. I just didn’t want anything bad to happen.” She spoke with the right amount of feigned vulnerability.
Then, with a shaky sob, she enveloped Lucas in a tight hug. “You have no idea how moved I was earlier–when you and Clara called me ‘mother‘ for the first time.”
“All these years… I’ve longed to hear that from you. But I couldn’t. I wasn’t allowed.”
And then, her tears came, spilling out in full force as she trembled against his chest.
Watching the woman who had always seemed so kind and refined his real mother–cry in such a raw, vulnerable way, Lucas felt his eyes well up with emotion,
He clutched her tightly, his voice thick with emotion, “Mom!”
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“Mom, I’m grown now. I have a job. I earn money. You don’t have to hide anymore.”
“That woman–I don’t acknowledge her. But if she’s clever. I’ll let her stay on as a housekeeper, or something. Let her clean.”
“I’ll even have her serve you. That’s how she can repay the debt for keeping us apart all these years.”
Those were his words. That woman. Her. That was what I had become in his eyes.
Just someone–not Mom. Not the woman who had raised him.
Ryan had once made promises to me. He had once said I was his home. But now… now he let our son treat me like I was some inconvenience to be disposed of.
For all these years, I had dedicated myself to raising Lucas. My body had grown weary from scrubbing floors, cooking meals, and ensuring everything in that house was spotless. But no one seemed to notice–not anymore.
Clean clothes? They thought they did it themselves. Meals on the table? Of course they were always there–hot, fresh, perfectly seasoned. A spotless home? That was just expected. Normal.
Lucas had forgotten the boy he once was–the one who used to drag a heavy bucket of water across the kitchen to help me clean. The one who stood on a stool, determined to wash dishes, his small hands slipping with soap.
But all those memories? They had faded for him, Blurred, Replaced by brighter, shinier moments where I no longer fit.
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And Madeline? She couldn’t be more thrilled.
Years she had fed on the crumbs of my labor. Years lurking in the corners of my life, poisoning Ryan’s ear with her whispers. And now–finally–she had clawed her way into the light.
She clung to Lucas as he called her “Mom,” as if the word belonged to her. As if she hadn’t stolen it from me, piece by piece.
Tears glistened in her eyes–not from remorse, but from victory. Her arms tightened around him, her voice syrup–sweet.
And just as they lost themselves in their twisted fantasy of justice-
A voice cut through the silence like a blade.
“What are you two doing?”
