Two years slipped by quietly, and Eliza never missed a week visiting Aiden.
On this particular day, she found herself by his bedside, as usual, with the sunlight streaming through the window, casting a warm glow on her more mature and determined face.
“Aiden, did you hear? Margot’s been sentenced to life. She won’t be coming out,” Eliza said, her voice calm and steady, a far cry from the anger and fear she once felt. “The art awards she stole from me have been rightfully returned to my name. Over these past two years, I’ve been pouring my heart into my painting, held a few exhibitions, and earned a lot of recognition.”
She paused for a moment, then added, “And, I’m getting married. To Dean. He’s been amazing, always there for me, giving me so much warmth and support over these two years.”
Eliza’s eyes drifted away, lost in a sea of memories.
“Lately, I’ve been dreaming a lot. I remember once, in the Newells' garden, I fell and scraped my knee, and the pain brought tears to my eyes. The Newells didn’t seem to notice, or maybe they were too busy worrying about Margot. But you, you rushed over, gently helped me up, and with a look full of concern, you said, ‘It’s okay. I will take you to get some medicine, it’ll stop hurting soon.’
“Back then, your embrace felt so warm and reliable. It was the first time I truly felt cared for, and naturally, I became attached to you, eventually falling for you.
“But later, I found out that most of your kindness was because of Margot. Do you know how much that broke my heart? I was so angry with you, furious over why you treated me that way.”
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