—Because every time we talk about your family we end up talking about that farm.
-AND?
—Because I’m tired.
—Tired of what?
Isabella lowered her voice.
—That everything revolves around her.
Eleanor stepped back slightly.
Charles listened to her.
—My mother never asked you for anything.
—She doesn’t have to ask. You admire her as if she were a saint because she works from five in the morning and never buys herself anything.
—Does that bother you?
—It bothers me to feel that I’ll never be good enough for him.
For the first time, something different appeared beneath the arrogance.
Insecurity.
But Charles felt no relief.
Understanding where the cruelty came from did not make it acceptable.
—So you decided to make her look poor and irrelevant.
—That’s not how it was.
—You told our friends that your family paid for the house.
Isabella remained silent.
Charles continued.
—And knowing that my mother sold land to help us, you just told her that it smells like a farm.
Isabella looked at Eleanor.
Shame finally appeared on her face.
But he arrived too late.
—Eleanor, I…
—No.
The word surprised everyone.
Eleanor raised her hand.
—Don’t apologize to me because Charles is demanding it.
Isabella remained motionless.
Eleanor took a deep breath.
—If you ever understand why it was wrong, then apologize. But don’t do it to save a wedding.
Charles watched his mother.
That was exactly the woman he remembered.
He wasn’t seeking revenge.
I didn’t want a spectacle.
Only dignity.
Isabella began to cry.
—So what do you want me to do?
Charles replied:
—I want you to give me back the ring.
She looked at her hand for several seconds.
Then he took it out.
The diamond fell onto Charles’ palm.
A small scraping of metal was heard.
Nothing else.
The priest approached cautiously.
—Charles…
—I’m sorry, father.
He looked at the guests.
—I also owe you all an apology.
Isabella covered her face.
Victoria put an arm around her.
Charles did not change his decision.
—There will be no wedding today.
