The morning was calm, the kind of peaceful stillness that only the countryside mansion provided. Isabella sat on the terrace, sipping her tea while watching the garden flourish in the early autumn sun. Alex had left early for a meeting, and his parents were busy with their own affairs. It was one of those rare moments of quiet that Isabella cherished, especially now that she was pregnant. Life had been an emotional whirlwind lately, and these small pockets of solitude were the only times she could truly reflect on everything that had happened.
Just as she set her cup down, one of the house staff appeared, bowing respectfully.
"Mrs. Grey, there are visitors at the gate," he said.
Isabella frowned. "Visitors? Did they say who they are?"
"Yes, ma'am," he replied. "They said they are your parents. They've come from Brazil."
Isabella's heart dropped at those words. Her parents? After all these years? She had not seen them since she had left Brazil, not since the betrayal, the pain of their rejection, and the distance that had grown between them. She hadn't even spoken to them, as they had cut ties after believing the lies her sister Victoria had spread. Now they were here, at Alex's family home, without warning?
Her chest tightened. What could they possibly want now?
Isabella stood, her hands trembling slightly as she followed the staff to the entrance. Her thoughts raced—anger, confusion, and an old, deeply buried ache that surfaced once more. Why now? Why after all these years of silence and rejection? As she approached the grand foyer, her steps slowed, and she could feel her pulse quicken with every step.
And then she saw them.
Her mother and father stood there, looking a little older, a little worn, but unmistakably them. Her father's once-strong posture seemed humbled, and her mother's cold, judgmental gaze was softer than she remembered. Both of them wore expressions of unease and uncertainty, as if they knew this visit wasn't welcome.
"Isabella..." her mother spoke first, her voice faltering. "We've come to see you."
Isabella stood frozen at the doorway, her mind swirling with a thousand emotions. She crossed her arms, trying to keep a barrier between herself and the memories of the past.
"I wasn't expecting you," she said, her voice cold and guarded. "Why are you here?"
Her father stepped forward, looking hesitant. "We... We wanted to apologize."
Isabella's eyes widened. Apologize? The word seemed foreign coming from them. For as long as she could remember, they had always seen themselves as righteous, never admitting fault. And yet, here they were.
"For what, exactly?" Isabella asked, her voice sharp. "For not believing me? For turning your back on me when I needed you the most?"
Her mother winced, and her father sighed deeply. "We made mistakes, Isabella. We were wrong to listen to Victoria... and we were wrong to doubt you. We were blinded by our own expectations, and in doing so, we failed you."
Isabella wanted to laugh, but no sound came out. This was the moment she had dreamed of for so long—her parents admitting their mistakes, apologizing. But now that it was happening, it didn't feel like the vindication she thought it would be. It just felt hollow, like years of pain couldn't be undone by a few words.
"I don't know what you expect me to say," Isabella finally spoke, her voice calm but distant. "It's been years. You made your choices, and I made mine."
Her mother's eyes brimmed with tears, and her father looked down at the floor. "We know we can't undo the past," he said softly. "But we want to try to make things right. We want to be part of your life again... part of our grandchild's life."
The mention of her unborn child caused Isabella's hand to reflexively move to her stomach. For a moment, she was tempted to let them in, to let them try to repair what was broken. But the wound was too deep, and the scars were too fresh.
"Isabella," her mother began, her voice pleading. "We've missed you so much. Please... give us a chance to make amends."
Isabella looked away, her heart torn between the past and the present. The hurt they had caused still lingered, and though they stood before her, apologizing, she wasn't sure if she could ever truly forgive them. Could she trust them again? Could she allow them into her life, into her child's life?
After a long silence, Isabella finally spoke. "You can stay for now, but don't expect things to go back to the way they were. I'm not the same person I was when I left Brazil."
Her parents nodded, a glimmer of hope in their eyes. It wasn't much, but it was something.
The next few days passed slowly, with her parents staying in the mansion's guest wing. Alex's parents were surprisingly kind to them, likely out of respect for Isabella and the impending arrival of their grandchild. Mrs. Zhou even extended warmth toward her in-laws, hosting dinners and making them feel welcome. But for Isabella, every interaction with her parents was strained. She kept her distance, choosing to avoid any unnecessary conversation, and excusing herself whenever they tried to talk about the past.
At one dinner, her father tried to bring up their family back in Brazil, discussing the estate and how things had changed. Isabella listened in silence, her mind wandering to the years she spent feeling abandoned by them. She answered politely when addressed, but her responses were short, her tone distant. She wasn't ready to let them back in, not fully.
Alex noticed the tension between them and tried to support Isabella in subtle ways, like holding her hand under the table or changing the topic when the conversation veered too close to uncomfortable territory. He was her rock, and she leaned on him heavily during their stay.
After a week, her parents announced they would be returning to Brazil. They had apologized, they had tried to reconnect, but Isabella had remained guarded. As they said their goodbyes, her mother hugged her tightly.
"We'll always be here if you're ready to talk," her mother whispered.
Isabella nodded but said nothing.
As they left, a strange weight lifted off her shoulders. She had survived their visit, but the emotional scars remained. It would take time, maybe a long time, before she could truly forgive them. For now, she was content with the life she had built with Alex and the future they were preparing for their child. She wasn't the forgotten princess anymore; she was someone stronger—someone who had learned to stand on her own.