Beauty and the Grinch

Beneath the surface

Kai’s face flushed red with anger as Sophie recounted what had happened. He could hardly believe it—Rowan had made a cruel comment about Cleo being an orphan. It was a low blow, an unnecessary cruelty, and Kai's blood boiled at the thought of it.

“How could you be so heartless, Rowan?” Kai demanded, his voice shaking with rage. “Cleo is one of the kindest, most gentle people I know, and she doesn’t deserve this—no one does.”

Rowan’s expression faltered, caught off guard by Kai’s fiery outburst. “I didn’t mean to hurt her feelings,” he muttered, his voice low.

Kai’s fists clenched. He was so close to revealing the truth—that he, too, was an orphan, adopted by his older brother—but he held himself back. It wasn’t the right time. Instead, he took a deep breath to steady himself.

“You need to apologize to Cleo,” Kai said, his tone sharp and unyielding. “And not just any apology—it needs to be sincere. You can’t keep hurting people and expect forgiveness to come so easily. This behavior of yours has gone too far. What happened to you, Rowan? Your parents would be disappointed.”

Rowan’s sulky demeanor made Kai’s anger flare up again, but then Rowan nodded reluctantly. “Fine, I’ll apologize.”

Kai’s gaze bore into him. “Good. But Rowan?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t think this is the end of it.”

Three days before the Christmas ball, the children were scheduled to have a rehearsal performance at the mansion. Kai saw it as the perfect opportunity for Rowan to make amends, not just with Cleo but also with Sophie. But when the day arrived, Cleo was nowhere to be seen.

Sophie and Sister Mary arrived with the children, but Cleo had refused to come.

“I just can’t face him,” Cleo had told Sophie earlier that morning. “I’m still too hurt and angry.”

Sophie, understanding her pain, promised to support her decision.

At the rehearsal, Rowan’s eyes scanned the room nervously. He’d been planning to apologize, but Cleo’s absence made the weight of his actions settle heavier on his shoulders.

When he approached Sophie, she gave him a stern, unwavering glare.

“I’m sorry, Sophie,” Rowan said, his voice quiet.

Sophie crossed her arms. “You’re sorry? That’s not enough. I’m not the one you hurt, Rowan. You owe Cleo an apology—one that’s genuine.”

Rowan nodded, looking down at his feet. “I will. I promise.”

Kai noticed Cleo’s absence almost immediately and knew why. The guilt gnawed at him. Without hesitation, he made his way to the orphanage, determined to make things right on Rowan’s behalf.

When he arrived, he found Cleo sitting alone in the orphanage’s cozy but modest living room. Her shoulders were slumped, and her face held a sadness that pierced his heart.

“Cleo,” Kai said gently as he approached her. “I’m so sorry for what happened. Rowan was completely out of line, and frankly, I’m ashamed to call him my nephew.”

Cleo looked up, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “It’s not your fault, Mr. Kai,” she said quietly. “Rowan’s old enough to know better.”

Kai sighed and sank into the seat next to her. “I still feel responsible. As his uncle, I should have guided him better. He wasn’t always like this, you know. There was a time when he was kind, compassionate—even selfless. I don’t know where that Rowan went.”

Cleo nodded thoughtfully, her mind flashing back to the previous Christmas when she’d caught a glimpse of the Rowan Kai spoke of—the Rowan who was caring and warm, if only for a fleeting moment.

“I know, Mr. Kai,” Cleo said softly. “I saw that side of him once. But people change, and sometimes they lose their way.”

Kai’s eyes widened slightly. “You saw it? That side of him?”

Cleo nodded. “Yes. It’s why his behavior now hurts even more—because I know he’s capable of so much more.”

Kai ran a hand through his hair, guilt and frustration swirling in his chest. “Maybe I’ve been too lenient with him. Maybe he needs someone to hold him accountable for his actions.”

Cleo placed a reassuring hand on Kai’s arm. “You’ve done the best you could, Mr. Kai. You’re a good role model, and sometimes people need to make their own mistakes to learn and grow. Rowan has to find his own way back to being the person he’s meant to be.”

Kai smiled, gratitude evident in his eyes. “Thank you, Cleo. You’re wise beyond your years, you know that? Will I be seeing you at the Christmas ball?”

Cleo hesitated before nodding. “Yes,” she said, though her voice lacked conviction.

Kai noticed but didn’t press her further. Instead, he took her hand gently. “One more thing, Cleo. You don’t have to fake-date Rowan anymore. I’ll handle the press and the public. You deserve better than being part of some charade, and I won’t let Rowan hurt you again. That’s a promise.”

Cleo’s eyes widened in surprise before a wave of relief washed over her. “Thank you, Mr. Kai,” she said earnestly. “That means more to me than you know. I was dreading pretending to be Rowan’s girlfriend any longer.”

Kai nodded firmly. “It’s settled, then. You don’t have to pretend anymore.”

They talked for a while longer, discussing the ball and the children’s progress. By the time Kai left, Cleo felt lighter, as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

Meanwhile, back at the mansion, Rowan was left in charge of the rehearsal in Kai’s absence. Sophie had low expectations but was taken aback by what she saw.

Rowan was... different. He was patient with the children, engaging with them in ways Sophie hadn’t expected. He offered encouragement, helped solve minor disagreements, and even laughed with them.

Sophie leaned over to Sister Mary, whispering, “Are we sure this is the same Rowan?”

Sister Mary only smiled knowingly and said nothing, aware that Rowan could hear them.

By the end of the rehearsal, the children were beaming with excitement, and Sophie couldn’t deny that Rowan had handled the day remarkably well.

When Kai returned, he insisted that Sophie, Sister Mary, and the children stay for dinner. Sophie tried to decline, worried about missing the last train, but Kai wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Don’t worry about the train,” he said warmly. “I’ll drive you all home myself. It’s the least I can do.”

Faced with his kindness, Sophie and Sister Mary had no choice but to agree.

As the evening unfolded, Rowan caught Sophie watching him curiously. He approached her cautiously.

“What?” he asked, his tone defensive but softer than usual.

Sophie shook her head, a small smile on her lips. “Nothing. Just... I think I caught a glimpse of the Rowan everyone keeps talking about today.”

Rowan froze for a moment, then looked away, his expression unreadable. “Maybe that Rowan’s still in here somewhere,” he muttered.

Sophie’s smile widened slightly. “I hope so. Because I think he’s worth finding.”

For the first time in a long while, Rowan allowed himself to hope that she might be right.

And as the Christmas ball drew closer, the threads of broken relationships and second chances began to weave themselves into something whole—a fragile, tentative tapestry of forgiveness, growth, and, perhaps, redemption.