"She had those two necklaces made with every penny she'd saved over her entire life, while she was already sick. Her wish was for you and me to live happily ever after." Hilda's voice was steady and merciless. "You lost the right to wear that necklace a long time ago."
Jasper's lips trembled, but not a single word came out.
"I still remember you asking me why I couldn't understand you."
Hilda ran her thumb along the fracture lines in the beads, and a strange, hollow smile surfaced on her face. "So tell me, did you ever once try to understand me?"
"I gave you seven years. I knew the pressure from your parents was enormous, so I gave up my career. Gave up my future. I learned flower arranging. I learned etiquette. I learned how to become the kind of high-society wife who'd be worthy of standing next to you."
"My hands were torn up by thorns. My feet bled through my heels. I swallowed every whisper from colleagues, every pitying look from friends, and I told myself you loved me. That you were just in a difficult position."
"And what did you do?"
"You got engaged to Vivienne behind my back. You let her destroy my reputation in front of my grandmother. You left my grandmother standing outside your company while she was humiliated, and even though you knew she was sick, even after she collapsed, you couldn't be bothered to spare her a single glance."
"When Grandma died, I called you, Jasper. Do you remember where you were? You were in bed with Vivienne."
Something cold slid down Hilda's cheek. She didn't know when the tears had started.
She lifted her hand, wiped them away, and kept going.
"Our baby died that same day, Jasper. Are you satisfied now?"
