Chapter 193 Regret
Athena watched as Rose sank into the chair, her posture deflated, as though the weight of the past was too much to bear. Athena’s words had struck a nerve, but the sorrow in Rose’s eyes wasn’t lost on her either. It was clear that Rose had a different view of things, one that painted her actions as attempts to mend past mistakes. But Athena wasn’t sure if that was enough.
“Madam Stella,” Athena said, her voice softer now, but still firm. “I understand you want to clear your conscience, but not everything can be undone with a simple apology. Some things are too deep, too painful.”
Rose looked up, her eyes glassy. She didn’t reply immediately, as if weighing Athena’s words. The atmosphere between them had shifted. The tension, once thick and sharp, now felt heavy with unspoken understanding. It was a strange quiet, the kind that only came after a storm.
Jaxson, still standing in the corner, shifted his weight uneasily. He glanced between the two women, unsure of how to intervene, but also aware that neither seemed willing to back down. It wasn’t just a conversation about guilt and redemption anymore—it was a clash of legacies, of mothers and daughters, of grief and regret.
“I know what I did,” Rose finally spoke, her voice low but steady. “I wasn’t perfect. I failed. And Stacy—your mother—suffered for it. I can’t take that back, no matter how much I regret it.”
Athena didn’t respond right away, instead taking a slow sip of her soup. The warmth felt comforting against the coldness that had settled inside her chest. She wasn’t sure if she could forgive Rose, not yet. But she wasn’t interested in forgiveness right now. What mattered more was the truth.
“You know,” Athena said after a pause, her gaze never leaving Rose’s, “the truth is, sometimes people don’t want to be saved. Sometimes, all they want is to be left in peace.”
Rose looked away, her fingers trembling slightly as she gripped the edge of the table. Athena could see that she was struggling to hold herself together, the weight of the years pressing down on her. Athena had seen this before—people who had spent their lives building walls only to find themselves crushed by the very structures they created.
“I never meant for it to go this way,” Rose muttered, more to herself than to Athena. “But I wanted to fix it. I wanted to fix everything. I thought maybe if I could just… find Stacy’s grave, apologize to her, it might make up for all the pain.”
Athena’s heart softened for a moment. Rose wasn’t just trying to absolve herself; she was desperate to do something, anything, to repair the damage done. But Athena couldn’t forget what had been done to her mother, and she wasn’t sure if a simple apology would be enough to heal the scars that still lingered.
“You can’t change the past,” Athena said gently, her voice steady but carrying a quiet intensity. “You can’t bring my mother back, and you can’t fix everything. But you can stop hurting others. That’s a start.”
Rose didn’t reply. She simply sat there, her shoulders slumped, as the silence enveloped them once again. Athena knew Rose was struggling, trying to find a way to make things right, but Athena wasn’t sure there was a way to repair the damage done.
After a long, tense silence, Athena stood up. “I’m going to my room,” she said, her voice soft but final.
She didn’t wait for a response, but instead walked towards the door, feeling the weight of the day settle over her once again. She wasn’t angry anymore, but the ache in her heart was still there, lingering like a wound that refused to heal.
As Athena left the room, she couldn’t help but wonder if the truth would ever be enough for Rose, or if there were things that simply couldn’t be fixed, no matter how hard one tried.