Chapter 194 They All Died
Rose stared at Athena, her mind racing. The tension in the room seemed to tighten, and the air grew heavier with each passing second. Athena’s response had shaken her more than she cared to admit. The anger and bitterness in Athena’s words were unmistakable, but so was the depth of her pain. Rose could see now that Athena wasn’t just a victim of circumstances—she was a reflection of the very tragedy that had shaped her life, one that mirrored the tragedy of her own granddaughter.
Athena’s gaze remained steady, unreadable, but Rose couldn’t help but wonder about the possibility that Athena had been exposed to the same dark secrets Stacy had carried for years. Secrets that had torn their family apart.
“I never wanted to hurt anyone,” Rose said softly, though the guilt in her tone was palpable. “I didn’t ask for any of this to happen, Athena.”
Athena raised an eyebrow, her expression distant. “I know you didn’t, Madam Stella. But you didn’t stop it either, did you?” Her voice was calm, but the sting of her words hit hard. “You could have changed things, but you didn’t.”
Rose’s hands tightened into fists, a flicker of frustration crossing her face. “You think I didn’t try? You think I didn’t regret everything? I had no choice, Athena.”
“No choice?” Athena echoed, her lips curling into a faint, bitter smile. “Is that what you tell yourself? That you had no choice but to sacrifice your family, your daughter, for the sake of your own ambition?”
Rose’s face paled at the accusation, but she didn’t deny it. She had made choices, some of which had been selfish, and some of which had been born of desperation. There had been a time when she had believed that power and wealth could fix everything. But now, looking at Athena—her granddaughter, the one person she should have protected—she realized how wrong she had been.
“Athena…” Rose began, her voice breaking as she tried to gather her thoughts. “I never wanted to abandon you or your mother. I never wanted things to go this way.”
“But they did,” Athena interrupted, her tone final. “And now here we are. You’re still trying to fix everything, but it’s too late for that. You can’t just erase the past, no matter how much money you throw at it.”
Rose looked away, her heart heavy. She had thought that time would heal the wounds, that money and power would be enough to bring them back into the fold, to make things right. But now, faced with the reality of Athena’s cold, hard truth, she realized that she had been living in a fantasy.
“I know I can’t change the past,” Rose said softly, her eyes welling up with tears. “But I need you to understand that I did what I thought was best… at the time. I never wanted to hurt your mother, or you.”
Athena studied her for a moment, her gaze unwavering. “It’s easy to say that now. But you never really tried to make things right. Not until now, when it’s too late.”
Rose’s face twisted with pain. Athena’s words cut deeper than she had expected. And for the first time, she wondered if she had truly done everything she could—or if her own selfishness had always overshadowed her attempts at redemption.
The silence stretched between them, thick and uncomfortable. Athena, once again, seemed to retreat into herself, her thoughts far away from the room they were in. The years of pain, betrayal, and abandonment seemed to weigh on her shoulders, and Rose could only watch, helpless, as Athena remained distant.
“I know it’s too late,” Rose whispered, almost to herself. “But I still want to try. I still want to make things right… if you’ll let me.”
Athena didn’t respond right away. Her gaze remained fixed on the floor, as if she were contemplating something that weighed too heavily on her heart. After a long pause, she finally spoke.
“I don’t know if I can ever forgive you,” she said quietly, her voice laced with sadness. “But I will think about it.”
Rose’s heart sank, but she nodded, understanding that Athena’s forgiveness, if it ever came, would not be given easily. It would take time. Time to heal the wounds that had been created by years of lies, secrets, and misunderstandings.
The room was silent again, but this time, there was a sense of mutual understanding between the two women, a fragile truce built on the shared pain of their past. Neither of them could erase what had happened, but perhaps, just perhaps, they could begin to build something new—if only they were willing to try.