No More Waiting, She Chooses Love

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The Wagner family's living room was bathed in light, a stark contrast to the dim atmosphere that seemed to hang in the air.

This time, Jacqueline's greeting lacked its usual warmth, replaced by a palpable tension.

Herschel was frozen on the couch, a mere shell of the man he used to be. Illness had ravaged him, leaving him thin and his hair much whiter than it used to be.

He watched as Ernest and I entered, his expression unchanged.

Jacqueline rose awkwardly. "Felicia, Ernest, you're here."

“Jacqueline, Herschel," I greeted them as I always had, despite the unease.

Herschel gestured for us to sit, and the housekeeper promptly brought over some tea.

"Are you hurt?" Herschel was the first to break the silence.

I wanted to deny it, but the searing pain on my wrist from hours of being bound spoke volumes. Jacqueline noticed, her hand hesitantly reaching out as if to examine my wounds, but ultimately she refrained.

She seemed to shiver, her usual maternal ease around me replaced with unease.

“We'll have Jacqueline apply some ointment later,” Herschel offered, his tone reminiscent of better times.

I felt a bitter taste in my throat. “No need."

"Felicia," Jacqueline whispered my name.

But before she could say more, Herschel stopped her with a hand, turning to me. "Felicia, ask whatever you want."

Swallowing the pain, I mustered the courage to speak. "Is everything Lord said true?"

Looking into his eyes, the man who had been like a father to me for the past decade, I was terrified.

Terrified of the answer that could shatter every belief I held dear for the last ten years.

Yet, the very words I feared were spoken by him.

"Yes," that simple affirmation felt like a thunderclap in my heart.

I

My breath hitched, my gaze trembled as I looked at him, and Herschel met my eyes squarely "Felicia, your parents' death was my doing."

It felt like my world crumbled in an instant.

Even with my suspicions, and Lord's

es, without Herschel's own

, I clung to the hop

that it

wasn't true.

But now he admitted it.

He was responsible for my parents' demise, yet I had regarded him as a father.

I had been harboring the enemy in my heart.

"Felicia, it was my selfishness, my overwhelming desire for success," Herschel spoke calmly.

Ten years had passed; my parents were long gone, reduced to memories, while he had achieved his ambitions.

He was calm, but I felt engulfed by a

storm.

ust because my father

wouldn't collaborate, you decided he had to die?" Content belong

to