Stephanie's POV
Again those words, those concerned eyes as if he sees me as a person who needs help, saving.
Even earlier…
"It was heart medicine though…" He casually brought it up in the car. Luckily, I knew enough about medicine to know the medicine I take is used for both migraine and heart issues.
"Not always. It's used for both." I calmly stated, looking out of the window. My heartbeat was already on the rise.
"I see." Cliff didn't speak further and kept quiet. Whether he believed me or just didn't feel like prying, I don't know. Whichever it was, I didn't mind as long as it stopped him from knowing further.
Present time…
I remember the particular incident. Cliff had this habit; he pries into things like this but will not be interested in things that I want to keep hidden. He was like a paradox, rolling on its own. People like him are dangerous, more dangerous than Andrew or Grandpa.
"You really need to know your boundaries." I was tired of saviors. Tired of men like Andrew, him, or Daniel. They were cut from the same fabric, stitched into different attire.
I pulled away. From the beginning he showed care and compassion, but I knew better than anyone that once I leaned into his care, he could become another Daniel. I would once again be dragged into the hell I worked hard to escape. The present might be bad, but it was nowhere close to the hell I went through. I will escape this too.
Cliff scoffed. "Why do you act like my care is some kind of poison to you?"
His words stung, but it was the truth. Care was more fatal than contempt. Care was like poison laced on my favorite food in my own home, and contempt were just arrows released by the enemy in the middle of war.
"It's a contract. Don't cross the boundaries I have set. I will leave first. You can tell Grandpa I felt sick." I walked away without responding further. Cliff was just a means for my escape, nothing else.
I walked out of the estate. The night sky glowed under the moonlight, and the fresh air hit my nostrils. The image of the dark room slowly disappeared into the back of my mind.
My gaze drifted to the greenhouse located to the right, beside the wooden swing in the garden. The sweet smell of the flowers left a trace in the air. The greenhouse was something Grandpa made for Grandma because she loved plants. It was also home to many exotic species she planted over the years.
Unlike my grandpa or the people in this house, Grandma was quiet. She never directly accepted me or rejected me. She never helped me during punishments, nor did she take part in them. I only saw her during formal events which I was forced to attend. We remained strangers until I ran away to escape another punishment session from my stepmother.
It was unbearable to get beaten for every tiny mistake I made. When I ran to the backyard trying to find a place to hide, I heard a sweet voice coming from the greenhouse. Like a stupid fifteen-year-old, I couldn't hold back my curiosity and went there.
That was the first time I saw Grandma humming the same song Mom used to sing during bedtime. She was watering some plants when her smile caught my eye. She looked so much like my mom.
As if the dam I held to act strong broke, I started crying, grabbing Grandma's attention. At first she was shocked and hesitated to see me there. I knew I was unwanted, but I couldn't hold back my tears. Fifteen years old, I just missed my mom. The life where I was loved, not punished.
In a moment of impulse, I blurted out,
"Why do you all hate me so much?"
As if my question shifted something, she stopped tending to her plants and rushed to my side. She stood there with hesitation, not denying my words because what I said was true. My birth caused their beloved daughter's death. My birth also caused a spoiled heiress who never had to lift a finger to die in poverty. All because she chose me.
Grandma never said anything. She waited for me to stop crying and gave me some candy. Apparently, my mom always liked the sour candy Grandma made, so she always kept some with her even after Mom had passed away.
After that day, I sometimes sneaked in there. Grandma stayed quiet and let me help her, always feeding me food my mom liked. She never asked anything about Mom or my life, as if talking about it meant accepting that her daughter was no longer alive.
It wasn't the best grandmother-granddaughter interaction, but compared to all the punishment, it was nice. I wasn't spat on, starved, or beaten. I was just a child who ate and watered plants.
It was a safe haven.
But like God playing cruel jokes, Grandma lost consciousness and fell to the ground during one of our meetings, making Grandpa think I did something. I was punished again. After that, I never saw Grandma out of her room.
Apparently, she was so guilty and burdened by my mom's death that her heart couldn't take it any longer. A few years later, she died, leaving me alone once again in this dark place.
I looked at the greenhouse. It was still taken care of. The pots remained in the same place; everything was the same. Just that she was no longer here.
The darkness of the night made it cold and empty. Funny, this was once my safe place, but after Grandma's death I could never visit again. Grandpa hired a gardener to keep it alive, but without its owner it was just a shell of its past.
"What are you doing?"
I flinched, turning back in fear. I knew I was banned from this place after Grandma's incident. I didn't want to deal with any of them.
My eyes focused on the man with black hair standing by the door, watching me.
I sighed in relief. It was just Cliff.
"Do you like plants?" he inquired, coming up and standing beside me.
I smiled as the memories flooded back. I hated the outdoors and plants. I used to grumble when my mom dragged me out to play, but I also loved the time I spent in this space.
"I hate them, but they protected me from beatings in the past."
Words that I never told anyone suddenly left my lips.