Golden Cage Mommy Mutiny (Elyse) novel Chapter 69

Regret about what?

Was he sorry for being with me, or sorry for leavingme?

Over the years I’d read stories about him–how his career had stalled, how critics whispered he’d

run out of ideas.

Some people said his brilliance had faded; others said I’d ruined his trajectory.

Maybe he believed that too–that if I hadn’t made that scene, his progress would have been

uninterrupted.

Frankly, I didn’t need to worry about Adrian’s fate.

A broken ship still has plenty of nails left; he would manage.

He was, and always had been, far wealthier than I.

I caught Stella’s eye and she understood instantly.

She grabbed a broom and shoved Adrian out the door.

“Can’t you hear us? We don’t serve people like you here.”

“If you don’t leave, I’ll call the police. Go–get out and stop ruining our business.”

The dusty broom left a smear on his expensive suit that wouldn’t come out.

Adrian paused and offered a helpless, almost rueful smile. “I see how it is.”

Before he left, he slid a bank card across the counter.

I checked it–the balance looked to be around five million.

Stella insisted I keep it, insisting, “Even five hundred million couldn’t repay what he owes you.”

Then she frowned and peered at me like she was interrogating a secret. “When you divorced, you didn’t walk away with nothing, did you?” she asked bluntly.

“Adrian’s so rich–there’s no way you’d still be running this little deli if you hadn’t taken

something.”

I had indeed walked away with nothing.

It wasn’t pride that kept me from his money; I simply couldn’t win the fight.

My outburst at the planetarium had humiliated hing in public; he wanted to punish me properly.

He hired lawyers, and on the courthouse steps he made it plain: everything I owned had come

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through him.

“Lillian,” he said coldly, “I can take back whatever gave you at any time. People must be held accountable for what they do. You broke our agreement–there must be consequences.”

At the time, being forced to leave with nothing was almost merciful.

Adrian wanted to make his mistress whole, to humiliate me into ruin; he even schemed to saddle me with crippling debt after the divorce.

When someone has intelligence and influence, they don’t need elaborate plots to crush someone ordinary–just a few signatures and the world tips in their favor.

In the end, he didn’t finish me off.

Maybe I lowered my head and made it easy, or maybe he didn’t want to waste the energy.

He left me some support money–tens of thousands–as consolation for the baby I’d lost.

But my condition was so fragile then that the funds evaporated in months.

Therapy costs, medication, doctor’s visits–everything drained what little we had.

My parents spent their savings trying to patch me back together; they took me from doctor to doctor, and even tried a variety of desperate remedies.

For a long time I blamed myself for my father’s death.

If it hadn’t been for me, he might not have worked so hard into his old age.

If it hadn’t been for me, he might not have been consumed by guilt.

Adrian hurt me–and in hurting me, I hurt them.

Those emotional debts tangle up like a knotted ball of yarn, impossible to unwind.

Lately, though, I’ve begun to understand something else: love isn’t tidy.

You can’t always make sense of it; some things simply happen, and fate has its own strange way of

arranging lives.

Stella, listening, could no longer hold it in and threw her small arms around me.

She rested her furry hat against my chest and whispered, “You took me in when I had nothing. Why would you risk being hurt by people again?”

I told her I wasn’t afraid.

My therapist had long ago taught me that doing good is never wrong.

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“It wasn’t me who did wrong,” I told Stella. “It was them. I won’t punish myself for other people’s sins, and I won’t choose to hate everyone because of what they did.”

I’d found Stella that spring outside the deli–she’d come to Havenport with nothing but a duffel bag and a ripped ticket, scammed out of her wages and stranded.

Hungry and too proud to beg, she had no one to turn to.

I softened and let her stay, gave her small chores and a place to sleep.

It felt as natural as rescuing a stray cat or dog on the street–something I couldn’t not do.

Even if everything repeated a hundred times, I’d still bring someone in from the cold.

I couldn’t bear the thought of eight–year–old Adrian freezing in a stairwell, or a teenage Nora’s future being buried before it began.

Stella nodded and kissed me on the cheek. “Lillian, you’re the best,” she said. “If he lost someone like you so good, then let him regret it for the rest of his life.”

Whether he had regrets, I couldn’t say.

All I knew was that our meeting that day was a pebble tossed into a pond–no ripples lasted long enough to carry meaning.

I didn’t dwell on it.

But unexpectedly, Nora came looking for me.

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