He Made Me Pay for Five Years; Now He Regrets

Chapter Three.

Charlotte’s POV.

My heart melted right there on the cold marble floor. I was still on my knees, blood dripping from my nose, my face throbbing from where it had hit the ground. But none of that mattered.

Nothing mattered except the sound of that laughter.

There was no other child at Hill Manor and that only meant that it was my Little Grape’s.

My daughter.

A nostalgic memory of the day I found out I was pregnant with her slammed into me. I had been so happy and full of hope. Mason had held me in his arms and promised we would raise our child together.

We would be a family forever.

But then, Nerissa died and everything fell apart.

I was three months pregnant when they locked me away. I gave birth to my little grape in prison. The conditions were harsh, the guards were cruel and I was all alone, scared and in so much pain that I thought I’d die.

But when I heard her first cry, everything else faded away.

She was tiny, fragile and the most beautiful baby I’d ever seen.

They let me hold her for thirty-seven minutes. I remember counting every second, dreading the moment she would be taken away from me. I pressed my cheek against her soft skin and whispered her name over and over again.

My Little Grape.

And then, Mason took her away without so much as a goodbye. He just walked away with our daughter and I never saw her again.

Until now…

Her hair was dark and curly, just like mine used to be. Her eyes were big and brown, just like Mason’s. She was dressed in a pink dress with floral designs on it and her tiny shoes were scuffed from playing.

“My little girl.” I choked out.

That was when I noticed the person standing beside her, holding her hand.

Sophia. My adopted sister.

I’d welcomed her into our family, introduced her to Mason and the rest of his family. I was stunned to see how different she looked now, compared to my shabby looking self, Sophia looked like she had just stepped out of a magazine.

Her hair was perfect, her makeup was flawless and her dress suited her well enough. She stared at me, wide eyed and her mouth slightly open.

“Charlotte?” She muttered under her breath in disbelief. “I didn’t know you were being released today.”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My eyes were fixed only on the little girl beside her.

“Sophia,” I said, my voice trembling. “Is this… is this little grape?”

I didn’t wait for her response. I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the pain in my knees and the blood still dripping from my nose. I rushed toward the stairs, my arms reaching out desperately to hold her.

“Little Grape!” I cried. “It’s Mama! It’s me! I’m here!”

But the little girl let out a loud scream and clung to Sophia’s leg, burying her face in the fabric of her dress. Her small body shook with sobs.

“No!” She wailed. “No. Leave me alone!”

I froze with my arms still outstretched. My heart shattered into a million pieces. The pain was overwhelming, like someone had reached into my chest and ripped out my heart. For a moment, I had no idea how to react.

“Sssshh. You don’t have to be scared.” I added, my voice breaking. “It’s me. I’m your Mom.”

But little grape wouldn’t look at me. She wouldn’t even peek. She just held onto Sophia tighter, her sobs only grew louder.

Sophia knelt down next to her and wrapped her arms around my child. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” she cooed softly. “Mama’s here. Mama’s got you.”

Mama?

The word hit me like a slap.

Sophia looked up at me with concern. “Charlotte, please. You’re scaring her. Calm down.”

“Calm down?” I choked out. “That’s my daughter! She’s my baby!”

I took another step toward them but Sophia held up her hand.

“Charlotte, stop. Look at her, she’s terrified.”

I looked at little grape. She was peeking out from behind Sophia’s shoulder, her beautiful brown eyes wet with tears. When she saw me looking at her, she flinched and buried her face again.

“Little grape,” I said softly, trying to make my voice gentle. “Please. Just look at me. Let me hold you. Please.”

She shook her head wildly, her small fists gripping Sophia’s dress. “No,” she whimpered. “No. I don’t want to.”

I could feel the pieces of what was left of my heart, crumbling inside my chest.

“She doesn’t know you,” Sophia continued. “You’ve been gone for five years. She’s only four. She doesn’t remember.”

“Then I should tell her,” I insisted. “Let me show her that she is my daughter, Sophia. My flesh and blood.”

Sophia stood up, still holding my child in her arms. Little grape clung to her like she was the only safe thing in the world.

“Look at yourself, Charlotte.” She retorted. “You’re covered in blood. You’re screaming and overreacting. You’re scaring her. Is that how you want to meet your daughter for the first time?”

I looked down at myself. My nose was bleeding. My face was wet with tears and blood.

I must have looked like a monster.

Instinctively, I reached up to wipe my face, but only smeared the blood more.

I was a mess. A pathetic, broken mess.

“Just let me hold her.” I begged. “Just once. Please.”

Little grape shifted in Sophia’s arms and looked at me again but with a curious look in her eyes. She studied my face for a moment before she spoke.

“Mama, who is she and why is she in our house?” She asked, pointing a small finger at me.

The question was innocent. Simply a child’s curiosity.

But it cut deeper than any knife could.

Who was I?

I was her mother. I carried her in my womb for nine months. I had given birth to her in a prison cell. And she didn’t know who I was.

“I’m… I’m your mother.” I replied.

“You’re not my mother,” she shot back, shaking her head wildly, her face scrunched up with confusion and fear. Her small voice firm as she pointed at Sophia. “This is my mama.”

I felt the air leave my lungs. My vision blurred with tears.

Every word cut deeper than the last.

I was just a stranger to my own daughter. A scary woman with a scar on her face and blood on her hands.

“Please,” I continued begging, reaching toward her. “Please baby, listen to mommy. I’m your—“

She turned away from me sharply, buried her face in Sophia’s neck and burst into tears. “Mama, I’m scared! Make the scary lady go away!”

Sophia held her close and rocked her gently. “It’s okay. No one’s going to hurt you while mama’s here.”

I opened my mouth to scream, to do something, anything at all.

It felt like I was about to go crazy.

But before I could make a sound, a voice came from the doorway.

“Charlotte?”

I froze.

I knew that voice. I would know it anywhere. It had haunted my dreams for five years. It had echoed in my mind during the darkest nights in prison.

Slowly, I turned my head, my heart pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears and my gaze landed on him.