Chapter 8
The next morning, Natahalie was still on her bed. She had been in the room for hours since she woke up.
She didn’t bother turning on the light. She didn’t change clothes. She just pulled the blanket over her head and curled into herself.
Her whole body shook but she wasn’t crying, she was just too full of anger and heartbreak. She didn’t know how long she lay there before she heard a knock on her door. It was soft and gentle.
She didn’t answer. Another knock came again. It was a little slower this time.
“Nathalie?” It was her Grandma’s voice.
Still, she didn’t speak or get up to open the door for her.
“I’m coming in,” Grandma said softly. The door creaked open.
Nathalie didn’t look up. She stayed buried in the blanket, facing the wall.
She felt the bed dip as her grandmother sat beside her. Nathalie didn't say any words, neither did her grandmother. The only quiet sound in the room was Nathalie breathing.
Then, the blanket lifted slightly. A warm hand touched Nathalie’s back.
“I brought some cookies for you,” Grandma said. “And guess what? They are your favorites.”
Nathalie didn’t move.
“They’re still warm and they have extra chocolate chips, just like you like them,” Grandma said.
“I’m not hungry,” Nathalie said, her voice sounding small.
“I know,” Grandma replied gently. “But I didn’t bring them for hunger. I brought them because they’re comfortable.”
Nathalie slowly rolled onto her back. Her face was puffy and her eyes were red.
“I hate them,” she whispered. “I hate them both.”
“I know, baby,” Grandma said. “It’s okay to feel that.”
“They didn’t even ask me. They just... decided.” Natasha said.
“I wish I could say I was surprised,” Grandma sighed. “But your father has always been that way and as for Eloise…” she shook her head, “well, she never did understand love that isn’t about control.”
Nathalie looked up at the ceiling. “I feel like I’m suffocating in this house.”
“I know,” Grandma whispered. She reached for Nathalie’s hand and held it. “But I need you to know something.”
“What?” Nathalie asked.
“You are not trapped,” Grandma replied.
Nathalie blinked. “But they said…..”
“I don’t care what they said,” Grandma cut in gently. “You still have a choice. You always had a choice.”
“They think I owe them,” Natasha said.
“You don’t owe them your life, Nathalie, your heart or anything else..” Grandma answered her.
“They said it was for Mum, that she would’ve wanted this and the marriage is in respect of her,” Nathalie said, lowering her head.
Grandma's hand squeezed hers tighter. “Don’t let anyone twist her memory like that.”
“She wouldn’t want this right?” Nathalie asked.
“No,” Grandma said firmly. “Your mother wanted you to grow wild and free. She wanted you to have choices and not chains.”
There was silence in the room. Then, Grandma said, “But I want you to think about something.”
“What?” Nathalie asked.
“Sometimes... destiny doesn’t show up the way we expect.”
Nathalie turned her head. “What do you mean?”
“I mean maybe... maybe this isn’t just about the marriage. Maybe this path might sound strange as it feels, but it probably leads you to something bigger.” Grandma said.
“You sound like them,” Nathalie said.
“No,” Grandma said calmly. “They want you to obey. I want you to think.”
“I just wanted to come home. I thought maybe we’d bake cookies and talk like we used to. I didn’t expect this mess.” Nathlie replied.
“I missed you too,” Grandma whispered. “And I’m sorry your return felt like betrayal.”
Nathalie rolled her eyes.
“But what if,” Grandma said softly, “what if your story is just beginning?”
“I don’t want this story,” Nathalie said. “I want to leave. I want to run far from all of this.”
“You can,” Grandma said. “But ask yourself first….are you running from pain or running from your purpose?”
Nathalie stared at her. “What if I don’t know the difference?”
“Then don’t jump to conclusions yet,” Grandma said.
Grandma reached into the little cloth she brought and pulled out a warm cookie. “Want one?”
Nathalie took it and ate it slowly. The cookie tasted like childhood and home.
“I love you,” Nathalie said quietly.
“I love you more,” Grandma replied.
She leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Get ready for breakfast. I want both of us to have breakfast together. Just you and me with zero interruptions.”
Nathalie nodded.
Grandma stood and walked to the door. She turned back, smiling softly. “I’ll leave the rest of the cookies here just in case your heart needs another one later.”
The door closed gently behind her. Nathalie looked at the small plate on the nightstand. For the first time since the dinner, she let herself breathe.
The room was quiet again.
Nathalie sat up slowly. She looked around, but everything felt still.
She stared at the cookie plate her grandma left, half-eaten and a soft smile tried to form on her lips, but it faded fast.
Her eyes went to the window. She pulled her knees to her chest.
She let out a shaky breath.
“What will I do?” she whispered into the silence.
She wasn’t the same girl who used to sit on this bed and dream about growing up, about becoming someone. She used to have plans. She used to laugh easily. She used to believe that family meant love. She was cold and didn't care about anybody anymore.
Now everything felt like a lie.
Her dad didn’t ask her how she was doing. He didn’t care what she wanted. He just made plans for her, like she didn’t have a voice. It felt like her feelings didn’t matter to him anymore.
Eloise had never liked her which has always been clear. But Nathalie didn’t think she’d go this far…to treat her like a pawn in some game.
And the worst part? She didn’t even know what hurt more, what they were doing now, or all the times she let it slide before.
How many times had she kept quiet, just to keep the peace? How many times had she swallowed her pain, pretending it didn’t matter? But it didn't matter to her anymore.
“I don’t belong here,” she whispered.
But where did she belong?
She thought about her mum, the way she used to hold her, sing to her, and brush her hair. That kind of love didn’t exist in this house anymore, not with her gone.
“I wish you were here, Mum,” she said, her voice barely a breath. “I wish you could tell me what to do.”
She looked at her reflection in the mirror across the room. Her eyes were red and her face was pale, but she saw something else which was fire.
She stood and decided to get ready for breakfast with her grandmother.
Later that day, Nathalie was in a room, scrolling through her phone. Suddenly, she heard a soft knock on her door. She didn’t answer. Then, she heard three knocks follow afterwards. Still, she didn't respond. The door opened anyway.
Her father stepped inside the room. He wore a gray button-down shirt and dark trousers, the kind he always wore when something important was coming. His face was calm that afternoon.
“Good afternoon,” he said. She stayed quiet.
He stood by the edge of the bed. His eyes scanned the room like it was new to him, like he hadn’t seen her grow up here.
“I hope you rested?” he asked.
She didn’t move. He sighed. “We need to talk.”
She finally turned her face toward him. “What now? The last time I checked, I had no reason to hold a conversation with you. When you had the chance to care, you didn’t. So why now?”
“There’s an engagement dinner this weekend,” he said. His voice was smooth and cold, like he had practiced it. “Saturday evening at the Stanley estate.”
Her stomach dropped.
“Engagement dinner? Are you kidding me? With whom?” she asked, even though she already knew.
“Aiden Stanley,” he said. “The eldest son.”
She sat up slowly. “You planned a dinner?”
“It’s customary,” he said. “The families need to meet. It’s a formality.”
She shook her head. “You mean to show me off.”
“It’s to begin the process,” he said.
“What foolish process?” she snapped.
“The engagement and the joining of both families.” He replied.
“I didn’t agree to this marriage and you have started making arrangements for an engagement dinner. What kind of father are you?” She said, with rage in her eyes.
“You don’t need to,” he said, his jaw tightening. “This is already happening. Your opinion doesn’t matter.”
She laughed. It was bitter and quiet. “You don’t see me, do you? You don’t get it?”
He frowned. “Nathalie, don’t start.”
“Don’t tell me that. I’m not a doll you can dress up and give away just like that. Why can’t you give out your other daughter if you are interested in keeping your bloody alliance?” Nathalie yelled.
