Chapter 21

Chapter 21

BLAIRE

I ran into my room and locked myself in the walk-in closet. I finally let

out the tears. that I was holding back. I don’t understand why my father

always takes Catherine's side. Since she came into our lives, she has

been my father’s priority, despite her being his stepdaughter. Whenever

there was a chance, he always chose Catherine over his own.

daughter.

I can still vividly remember the first time he introduced Stacy and

Catherine to me. It's only been two years since my mother died, yet my

father has already brought home another woman to take my mother's

place. I was only ten years old at the time, and I'm not prepared for

that. I wasn't happy about his decision, but who am I to stop him from

being happy again? Despite my inner objections, I tried to accept them

as my new family.

But the first time Catherine and I had a conflict, my father’s bias clearly

showed when he disregarded my feelings and took Catherine's side.

Catherine broke my doll that day, and I accidentally pushed her out of

my anger. My father saw that and scolded me for hurting my sister over

a toy. But the thing is, it wasn't just a toy. That was the last do!! that my

mother gave me before she died. I cried myself to sleep that day, and I

wasn't able to have my dinner. The next morning, they all went out for a

picnic and left me alone at home.

And the last instance in which my father showed his bias towards us

was when Catherine ran away on the night of their engagement. If I

were the one to do that, my father would probably curse me to death.

But he didn’t utter a word; instead, he just used me as a replacement.

I'm just glad that it turns out so well between Sebastian and

me.

Despite his unfair treatment of Catherine and me, I still want to please

him. I wanted to make him proud, so I did everything he told me to. And

when I heard that he had been hospitalized, I couldn't help but get

worried. That's why, despite my current situation with Sebastian, I still

chose to come back. Yet, after everything I've done, this is what I get.

My mind is so hazy that I didn’t notice someone walk inside the closet.

“Is this your new hideout?” he teased.

I slowly lifted my head, and Sebastian's beautiful smile greeted me,

casting a warmth that penetrated the cloud of my earlier despair. In a

sudden twist of emotions, I pouted my lips and began crying loudly. The

heaviness that weighed me down just moments ago seemed to

dissipate as he stepped into the room, transforming the gloom into a

comforting embrace.

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“Did you miss me so much that you're crying?” he playfully inquired,

attempting to lighten the mood. However, I chose to remain silent,

allowing my tears to convey the tumult of emotions that had gripped

me.

“I heard about what happened. Are you okay?" he asked, his concern

evident in the gentle tone of his voice.

“The cake is gone," I finally said, my voice reflecting a mix of

disappointment and frustration as I pouted my lips.

He chuckled, a soothing sound that momentarily lifted the weight off my

shoulders. “Is that why you're crying?” he questioned, his fingers

delicately wiping away the tears that stained my cheeks.

I nodded in response, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and

sadness. “I clearly put a note on it. But they still ate the cake that I

baked for you.”

“It's just a cake. I'm sure you can bake another one.”

I sensed he was attempting to console me, but I disliked the way his

words sounded. It seemed as though he was downplaying the situation,

insinuating that it wasn't a big deal. and that I was simply overreacting.

Frustration and disappointment surged within the,, prompting me to

push him away and shoot a glare his way. “It wasn't just a cake. I

worked hard on that all afternoon. And they just ruined it!" I vented

angrily.

Caught off guard by my sudden outburst, he seemed slightly taken

aback. “I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to say that,” he quickly apologized.

Realizing he meant well, I felt a twinge of remorse for raising my voice.

“I'm sorry for shouting at you.” I offered an apology.

“It's fine. I know you're upset. I understand. Have you eaten?” he

inquired, his concern evident.

I shook my head. “How about you?"

“I said I wanted to have dinner with you, didn’t 1?"

“Are they still downstairs? I don't feel like having dinner with them right

now,” I admitted.

“If that's what my wife wants, then I shall fulfill it,” he responded,

emphasizing his willingness to prioritize my feelings. The tenderness in

his tone softened the edges of my frustration, creating a moment of

understanding and connection amid the remnants of disappointment.

“But how about you? Aren't you hungry?” I asked, my concern shifting

from the cake to

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his well-being.

his

“Well, maybe I should eat dessert first,” he teased with a playful glint in

his eyes, words carrying a hint of mischief. Before I could register what

was happening, het leaned in, lowering his head and planting a soft,

gentle k*ss on my lips.

His unexpected sweet k*ss surprised me, making me forget about the

ruined cake. It was a tender moment that promised comfort and

reassurance, showing that our connection mattered more than the

dessert mishap.

When our lips parted, he wore a soft smile, understanding that laughter

and affection could heal better than baked goods. The room's

atmosphere changed; disappointment. was replaced by a renewed

connection.

Sebastian's playful mood continued as he suggested, “Now, about that

cake. Let's bake a new one together. What do you think?" His

enthusiasm sparkled in his eyes.

The idea of turning the mishap into a joint baking adventure made me

smile. It reminded me that setbacks could become chances for shared

experiences. “You'd really bake with me?” I asked, surprised and

delighted.

“Of course! We'll make it even better than before, and this time, no one

can sneak a“ taste before it's ready,” he declared with determination.

“I'd love that,” I said with genuine excitement, a smile playing on my

lips. Unable to contain my gratitude, I lifted my hand, gently caressing

his cheeks. “Thank you for trying to make me feel better. That means a

lot to me,” I expressed, my voice carrying at sincere appreciation for his

comforting presence.

“You mean a lot to me,” he responded, his words echoing with a depth

of emotion that resonated within me. It was a simple yet profound

declaration that held the promise of a connection beyond the surface.

“Now that you say it, it makes me wonder: when did you start to have

feelings for me?” I asked curiously, my curiosity getting the best of me

as I sought to unravel the timeline of our evolving emotions.

“The morning you tried to cook me breakfast, and you almost burned

down the kitchen,” he replied, a hearty laugh accompanying his

recollection of that amusing encounter. The memory transported us

back to a moment steeped in the innocence of culinary mishaps and

the early stages of our connection.

It was a morning marked by my ambitious attempt to be a perfect wife,

and I prepared him some breakfast. Inexperienced and determined to

prove my independence, I embarked on preparing breakfast without

seeking assistance from the household staff. The result was a chaotic

scene, with burned food and the threat of a kitchen disaster looming

large.

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“You're mean. To be fair, that was my first time,” I retorted playfully,

pouting my lips in mock indignation.

“I know. And hats off to you; you managed to learn your way in the

kitchen,” he added,- his laughter reflecting a fondness for the journey

we had embarked on together. The lightness in his tone conveyed an

acceptance of imperfections, emphasizing the growth. and resilience

that had characterized our shared experiences.

“That's because I wanted to please you.”

“Which you did,” he responded, a fond smile directed towards me. The

warmth in his eyes mirrored the satisfaction he found in my attempt to

create a pleasant experience for him.

“Does that mean you have no feelings for Catherine anymore?” I

asked, driven by curiosity as I sought to understand the complexities of

his emotions.

“Catherine and I have a long history. But that was all-nothing but

history. Whatever feelings I may have had for her, they're long gone. I

only see her as a friend and as my sister-in-law, nothing more,” he

explained, his words carrying a reassurance that our connection

transcended the shadow of past relationships.

“If one of us is in danger, who would you choose?” The question

emerged spontaneously, a product of my desire to unravel the depth of

his commitment. I yearned to hear his answer, to glimpse into the core

of his priorities.

“You are and will always be you. I don't care if the whole world is in

danger; I'd still choose you," he declared with unwavering conviction.

The sincerity in his response resonated deeply, dispelling any doubts

that lingered within me.

His words filled my heart with joy. I realized Sebastian's love for me is

strong and certain, even if some things are uncertain. Even though I

may not have all the love I want from my family, Sebastian's constant

care and love act like a strong support, filling the empty spaces and

keeping me strong.

His promise gave me strength and made me feel secure. Knowing that,

even when things were tough, he would always choose me brought a

deep sense of safety. It showed how strong our bond is, going beyond

just family ties.

Talking about these things made me appreciate our relationship even

more. Sebastian's. words weren't just about saying he loves me; they

were a promise to always be there for me. It comforted me to know

that, no matter what challenges come our way, his love will be there,

guiding us through life's ups and downs.

“Thank you for always choosing me.”

“I didn’t choose you, Blaire. Because there's no choice to begin with.

The moment I

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made a vow in front of that church, it has always been you.”

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