Livia does not want a divorce anymore. She has thought carefully about it. She can live with a husband whose heart does not, and will never, belong to her, but she is not sure she can live without the children she birthed and nursed herself.
Reciprocated love is the stuff of fairytales.
She is an adult now. There is no need to ruin her children's happiness by chasing after something she should have outgrown years ago.
It does not matter if Raylen does not love her.
It really doesn't.
No one ever dies from a lack of romantic love.
That does not, however, mean it does not hurt like a motherfucker.
Livia is actually surprised by how much it aches. It shouldn't be shocking, given that she was once head over heels in love with Raylen, believing him to be her Prince Charming on a white horse.
Now it's time to grow up. It's time to pack up that love and keep it away like it is a confession letter from a high school crush.
She is an adult now. She cannot live selfishly for herself anymore. She has to live for her children.
If she needs to swallow her pride to maximise their welfare, then swallow it she will.
Henry Vale has a fondness for mangoes because he has the tastebuds of a child, so she imports some irwin mangoes from South Florida. She spends a fortune to ensure they arrive almost immediately by air.
Raylen does not seem particularly interested in what she is doing. He does not ask her to sign the divorce papers but he does not try to reconcile either. He is civil and gentlemanly, and that's it.
Perhaps she was the one who confused chivalry for love all those years ago.
Regardless, it is obvious that like Livia, whatever Raylen does is for Cornelius and Cornelia. She is no longer his concern.
'This is not really the worst thing in the world,' she realises. 'Many people stay married for money, for children, for honour. My situation is no different. Besides, being married to someone polite is certainly leagues better than being stuck with someone acrimonious.'
During these few days of respite, Raylen quietly visits his father twice. He does not ask her to join him and she does not offer to accompany him.
After his second visit, he tells her the dreaded news. "We may have been enjoying ourselves quite a bit without my father, but I am afraid this will end soon. He will be discharged tomorrow and will return home." He sighs. "Once my old man is back, there is nothing you or I can do."
Livia looks at him wordlessly, realising that he is no longer even protecting her.
He is abandoning her when she needs his support the most.
It should hurt—and it does—but not as much. After all, a dying heart is not that sensitive. Disappointment can only come from expectations, and she has been systematically eliminating her hopes the past few days.
When the true head of the household finally returns, Livia stays out of his sight until he is comfortably tucked into his bed, surrounded by a handpicked cast of doctors, nurses, and caretakers.
It is almost laughable how many people are waiting on this one man. Even Cornelius and Cornelia did not need so much attention when they were newborns.
Taking a deep breath, Livia enters the old man's room with a basket of reddish mangoes.
As expected, the old man is not the least bit pleased to see her. He turns quite red in the face—almost like the mangoes if Livia thinks about it—and begins spluttering. He instinctively reaches for his cane to point at her again. Thankfully, he is now only supposed to walk around with human assistance. The cane has been kept away for his own good.
His face turns a comical shade of red—almost the same colour as the mangoes in Livia's basket.
"Bitch," he hollers before she has a chance to plead her case, "what are you still doing here?"
She silently raises the basket as an explanation before placing it by his bed.
The mangoes are on the floor the very next instant, having been sent flying by the old man. "Do you take me for a child?" he roars. "A child that can be placated and bought over with cheap gifts?"
"No, of course not, I just—"
"I don't care about your explanation. You still haven't answered my question. I asked you what you are still doing here. Hmm?" His tone takes on an ominous aspect.
"I—"
"Leed!" Henry shouts. "Leed!"
"Yes, Master," says the butler, having appeared so quickly that Livia almost believes him capable of teleportation.
"What is this bitch still doing here?"
"Uh, Young Mada—"
"Don't uh and ah me! She is no longer your 'Young Madam' or anything like that! See her out! Throw that girl out with her as well! A girl with a mother like that can only grow up to be the same! Their very presence sours my mood and ruins my day."
Livia walks out of his room with her head held high before Mr Leed has a chance to show her out. But when she is along the corridor, she nearly stumbles. Tears begin to fall.
It is not that she did not expect a terrible reaction from Henry. She did. She's not stupid. However, anticipation barely dulls the sting of humiliation.
Besides, she may be able to shrug off attacks on her character, but she cannot forgive what the old man said about Cornelia.
Cornelia, his very own and only granddaughter.
Livia knew her attempt would unlikely succeed, but she just had to try one last time before ending things for good. She would not be able to forgive herself for not trying.
Delicately drying her tears with a silk handkerchief, she makes a vow for herself and her daughter. She will return this humiliation back a hundred fold.
"Revenge is a dish best served cold. Luckily for me, I am nothing if not patient."