C3 Chapter 3

Katelyn’s POV

I hurriedly said goodbye to Lucas and rushed to my parents’ house. My mind was a storm of memories as I drove through the familiar streets. The houses looked the same, the trees still lined the sidewalks as they had when I was a child.

At one time, this house held a family of four. A mother, a father, and two daughters. But the roles had never been equal. My mother had always been strong-willed and biased, doting on Derek while treating me like an afterthought.

Derek, in turn, took full advantage of it. He bullied me relentlessly, never punished, never held accountable. I remembered one time when he had beaten me badly. I ran to my mother, expecting comfort, but all she did was sigh and tell him not to make a scene again.

That was the way things worked in our family.

Then came the day Scarlett got into Stanford University. A prestigious school, but she didn’t have a full scholarship. It would cost our family at least sixty thousand dollars a year.

I had been planning to go to Stanford too, had worked hard for it, but when the time came, my parents made the choice for me.

They sold my room, used the money to send Scarlett to Stanford, and told me to go to a vocational college instead. A free program, they said, practical, responsible. They even suggested I take up a waitress job to make ends meet.

I had never felt so disposable.

Two children, one who was worth selling a house for, and one who wasn’t even worth a decent education.

I had finally broken that day. I had cried, screamed at my mother, demanded to know why I wasn’t good enough. And she had slapped me across the face. A firm, resounding slap that told me everything I needed to know. I had walked out of the house that night in tears and never came back.

And yet, here I was.

Derek’s voice pulled me from my thoughts as I stepped inside the old house.

“You finally decided to come in,” he said, standing near the door, his arms crossed.

I ignored him and walked past, my eyes landing on my father. He was lying in bed, looking weaker than I remembered.

“He fell last night,” Derek explained. “We took him to the hospital, but he’s fine now.”

My father turned his head slowly. The moment he saw me, his expression hardened. “So, you showed up.”

“Derek called,” I replied flatly, keeping my voice as even as possible.

He nodded slowly, his gaze steady. “I’m glad you did. You’ve kept your distance for so long that I thought… well, perhaps you didn’t care to come at all. I thought you’d only show up to see your dead old man’s face.”

I clenched my jaw, trying to stay composed. “Don’t say it like that, Dad. I just didn’t come because I thought there wasn’t much reason to.”

He sighed, the weight of years visible in his eyes. “Maybe not. Things weren’t easy between us. Your mother… she was a complicated woman. Too strong-willed at times, and maybe I didn’t step in when I should have. I regret that.”

I didn’t respond, waiting for him to continue.

“I know you still carry what happened ten years ago like a stone around your neck,” he said softly. “When you were young, I wasn’t the father you needed. I failed to protect you from many things.” His voice faltered slightly. “It’s just that your mother was always so firm in her ways. Sometimes, it was easier to stay out of it.”

The words, though calm, hit harder than accusations. They brought back memories I had locked away—the times when my mother’s anger burned hot and I turned to my father, only to find him stepping aside, disappearing when I needed him most.

“Let’s not talk about the past,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “It’s over.”

But the past refused to stay buried. It always did.

“I understand,” he said quietly. “One more thing, that I must tell you. Your mother left a will…” His eyes dropped briefly. “She left most of her savings to Derek. There’s nothing for you.”

I nodded quietly, keeping my face calm. Of course, I wasn’t surprised—how could I be after years of being overlooked? But deep down, the ache tightened in my chest. No matter how many times it happened, it still hurt.

“I’m not surprised,” I said, forcing a smile. “She was always very… consistent.”

He seemed uncomfortable, shifting slightly. Don't blame your mother. Derek is abroad and has many places where he needs money. He's not like you, who married such a wealthy husband. I also want to give you money, but you know all my money is saved with your mother..”

I nodded, swallowing the familiar lump in my throat. “No need, Dad.Is there anything else?”

He cleared his throat. “Scarlett will be here tomorrow. I called her myself. She doesn’t know about your mother yet. I thought it would be better if we told her in person.”

My heart tightened. Scarlett. Of course.

“You should be kind to her,” my father added gently. “She’s been through enough.”

A hollow laugh escaped me. “Impossible.”

His lips tightened, but his tone remained measured. “Katelyn, your mother just died. We need to stand together now. We are still family, no matter what happened back then.”

“Family?” I repeated, my voice cracking slightly. “I’ve never been part of this family, Dad.”

He didn’t argue. Instead, his eyes softened with something close to pity. “I know it hasn’t been easy. But we can’t let the past define everything. Try to make peace with Scarlett. For your own sake, if not for hers.”

For a moment, silence wrapped around us, thick and suffocating. I felt the familiar ache settling in my chest. It was the kind of pain that never really went away. Just buried itself deeper.

I exhaled slowly. My voice barely held steady. “I can’t... I just can’t do that anymore.” The words trembled out.

I stood, my legs heavier than they should have been. If I stayed a second longer, I’d break right in front of him.

The next day, I took Lucas to the funeral.

The morning was gray, the air heavy. I held Lucas’s small hand tightly as we walked through the cemetery gates.

Before the service, I went to the morgue to see my mother one last time. To say goodbye.

I stared at her still face, waiting for something—some emotion, some grief—to hit me. But there was nothing. Just emptiness. I whispered a quiet farewell and left.

Back outside, my father and Derek were speaking to the pastor, going over the funeral process. Ethan was nowhere to be seen.

I stood with Lucas, watching the mourners slowly trickle in, their faces full of sorrow. Yet, I felt like an outsider at my own mother’s funeral.

Then, suddenly, a commotion.

I turned just in time to see Scarlett stepping out of a car.

She was as beautiful as ever, untouched by the weight of the past. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, her expression composed despite the tragedy that awaited her.

Derek rushed forward, embracing her tightly. “Scarlett, I’m so sorry.”

The way he held her, the way he comforted her—it was nothing like the way he treated me.

I stood there, watching, unmoving.

Then I noticed Ethan.

His breathing had changed, shallow and uneven. His eyes were locked onto Scarlett, his posture rigid.

I knew this reaction. I had seen it before.

He was reliving something. A past that never really left. A love that had never faded.

Scarlett turned her head and saw him. Their eyes met, and everything else around them disappeared.

“Ethan?” Her voice was soft, unsure.

His lips parted, as if he couldn’t believe she was real. “Scarlett...”

Then, before my eyes, they stepped toward each other.

She fell into his arms.

And just like that, I lost him all over again.

I clenched my fists, willing myself not to react, not to care. But deep down, something inside me cracked.

The weight of ten years bore down on me, pressing against my ribs like an invisible force. It was foolish, I knew that. But watching them, I couldn’t ignore the truth.

Ethan had never been mine. He had always been waiting for her.