Golden Cage Mommy Mutiny (Elyse) novel Chapter 68

Chapter 6

I pushed the cash back across the counter and said quietly, “Keep your money. Just eat.”

“Before my father passed, he made me promise—if you ever came back, I should give you something warm to eat.”

“I don’t want to break his last wish, but I also don’t want anything more to do with you. So take this as me keeping my word, and please–don’t come back.”

Adrian didn’t respond. He stood there for a long while in silence, then slowly rolled up his sleeves

and started wiping the tables, sweeping the floor–just like he used to when we were kids.

There was no trace of the proud professor in him, only the clumsy determination of the boy I once

knew.

But Stella wasn’t having it. She grabbed the broom from his hand and snapped, “What’s this supposed to be? Didn’t you hear her? She doesn’t want to see you.”

“If you still have a shred of decency, you’ll get out now before you drag her back into that pain

again.”

I was touched by her protectiveness, but I didn’t need it. Not anymore.

I wasn’t sad. I hadn’t been for a long time.

When Adrian and I first separated, it felt like the world had ended. I thought I couldn’t breathe

without him.

Every night, I dreamed of us–playing together as children, sitting side by side doing homework after school, stealing shy kisses in the summer heat, holding hands under the first snow and whispering forever.

But when summer’s warmth faded and the snow melted, everything turned gray.

Autumn came with the sound of whispers–cruel, mocking whispers,

People said I was a nobody chasing a man out of my league. That my family had clung to him for what he could give.

“If not for you, Dr. Vale would’ve achieved even more.”

“She’s not fit to stand beside him.”

“She doesn’t even understand quantum theory–how could she possibly belong at Summit University?”

“To think a man like him was ever with someone like that–it’s humiliating.”

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The ridicule mocks, Nora’s smugness, Adrian’s coldness–it all carved me open, piece by piece.

I hurt myself just to feel alive, chasing pain because it was the only thing that reminded me I was

still here.

My mother waited outside my room every night, too afraid to interrupt, too afraid I might not wake up the next morning.

My father cooked my favorite meals, trying anything to bring me back.

But their worry only deepened my guilt that I had destroyed myself for a man–and in doing so, I was destroying them too.

I told myself to move on, to rebuild. But I couldn’t.

Two decades of life together had bound us like vines. Every object, every sound, every familiar

smell dragged me back to him.

To forget him felt like peeling off my own skin.

Back then, I truly believed my life was over, that I would either live in pain or end it altogether.

But I didn’t die.

I lived.

And somehow, I began to live well.

I built a life of my own–small, steady, and peaceful

I found work I loved, enough to support myself, enough to make me proud again.

Those twenty years with Adrian were unforgettable yes, but they were only part of my story. I still

had the rest of my life to write.

So I began to live it–pouring my time and care into Lillian’s Deli, polishing every counter, learning

new recipes, and finding comfort in the scent of fresh bread.

Business had slowed lately, so I’d started trying outbreakfast menus from other cafés, studying how to improve.

That morning, I’d gone out for inspiration. I hadn’t expected it to rain.

I hadn’t expected to see him again.

And I certainly hadn’t expected him to follow me here.

Maybe fate hadn’t finished its cruel joke, but love–ove had long since burned out.

I had already died once for him.

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There would not be a second time.

I looked at Adrian, wordless, and waited for him to leave.

He stared at me for a long time before lowering his head. His voice was low, almost lost beneath the

hum of the oven.

“I’m sorry, Lillian,” he said. “I regret everything.‘