The General's Replacement Doctor Wife

Chapter 6

After the graduation ceremony, the Hiltons held a party for Olivia, and the whole graduating class was invited.

Mrs. Hilton raised her crystal glass high in the air and made a toast, "For my daughter who graduated at the top of her class and whose awards and certificates could fill this room like wallpaper. Congratulations."

Her adoptive mother was looking right at Olivia but seeing past her. In her mind, she was congratulating another child who no longer existed.

Olivia hid her pain behind a smile, the same one she’d worn for years, which no one seemed to look at closely enough to notice the cracks beneath.

Everyone raised their glasses. She raised hers too, congratulating herself not for her achievements but for being strong enough to keep living this ‘bullshit of a life’ with a smile on her face.

Throughout the night, people kept coming up to her. She faced everyone with a smile until her jaw hurt.

It was halfway through the party when she realized Clayton wasn't there. She kept glancing at the door every time it opened, expecting to see him. The party lasted until 2 AM, but he never came.

When the last guest left at 3 AM, Olivia climbed the stairs to her room. Her feet ached from standing in heels. She heaved a sigh when her feet landed on the plush carpet, finally free from those torture device, she called shoes.

Olivia carefully hung her dress before changing into a comfortable oversized t-shirt. She turned to the bed. That's when she saw three pink roses on her mattress. Of course, Mrs. Hilton would choose pink roses, her dear Caroline's favorite.

But these weren't from Mrs. Hilton.

Next to the flowers sat a small velvet box she had seen Clayton hiding behind his back.

Olivia's heart jumped into her throat. She dragged her heavy legs to the bed. Inside the box, nestled in white silk, lay a ring with a purple butterfly. She put it on, but it didn't fit anywhere except for her pinky finger.

She didn't have candle-like hands like Caroline, who hadn't worked a day in her life when she was alive. Olivia’s hands were rough and calloused from hours of working part-time jobs to buy herself art materials, which her parents refused to fund.

A note fell from the box, Clayton's messy handwriting sprawled across it: "Congratulations." For one perfect moment, her heart soared, but reality came crashing back like a tidal wave.

Of course, this wasn't real. Clayton hadn't even shown up to the party. He hadn't even brought the right ring size. He'd probably dropped off the gift earlier, forced by Mrs. Hilton to maintain appearances. After all, what would people say if Bradford's golden boy ignored his "future wife's" graduation?

Olivia placed the ring back in its box and set the flowers aside along with it. They belonged together. These beautiful things meant for a different girl.

She curled up on her bed, still in her makeup, and stared at the ceiling until she fell asleep.

The next morning, the first thing Olivia did after breakfast was sort through her graduation gifts and the offers she received from various universities. She was planning to take Fine Arts and go to the university that offered the most advantage since her adoptive parents refused to pay for her chosen career because they wanted her to choose a noble profession.

Her fingers moved slowly through the pile of envelopes on her desk: Yale, Stanford, Harvard, Berkeley—names that would make any parents proud.

She opened each acceptance letter. The majority of them offered full scholarships and the best art programs. But it was the letter from Paris that made her heart skip: École des Beaux-Arts. The school she'd dreamed about since she first learned about it. A full scholarship. A chance to study in Paris!

Olivia got up and made a celebratory twirl while holding the letter from her future school. Her dreams were coming true! She could finally escape Caroline's shadow.

"What are you doing? Why aren't you dressed yet?"

Mrs. Hilton's sharp voice cut through her daydream. Olivia turned around, still clutching the acceptance letter to her chest. Her adoptive mother stood in the doorway, wearing her favorite pearl necklace and a disapproving frown that seemed permanently etched on her face these days.

"Mom, I got accepted to a prestigious school in Paris!" The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them. “I’ve finally decided to study Fine Arts and—"

"Who told you you're getting Fine Arts?"