She Was Never Mine

In a luxurious palace scattered with touches of opulence in every corner, where crystal chandeliers reflected warm light onto marble floors, a young woman in her early twenties descended the wide staircase with confident steps, walking as if she were treading on a carpet of light. Her brown hair flowed gracefully, and her serene features combined allure and elegance. She was Eleanor, the eldest daughter of George Rivers, one of those women who leave an unforgettable impression on anyone they pass by. She was not only beautiful but possessed sharp intelligence and self-confidence that signaled she was born to lead. She called out softly: “Dad… Dad, I’m going to the company.” Her father George’s voice came from the study room, filled with affectionate paternal warmth: “Why now, my daughter? The workday is over.” She approached him calmly and said: “I forgot some important files related to our merger deal with Lunex. I must have them tonight.” He replied with a tone mixing gentle reproach and care: “You’re exhausting yourself too much, Eleanor. You’re still young, live your life… work won’t run away.” She smiled faintly, stepped closer, and patted his hand, saying softly with a mix of firmness and tenderness: “And who else cares for the company but me, Dad? You’re sick… you can’t bear the burden of management anymore.” George Rivers, the wise man, devoted to his family, who had built his empire with his own hands, despite the illness that had worn down his heart, kept trying to stand tall for the sake of his daughters. But in the end, he realized that time shows no mercy and handed the reins of the company to his eldest daughter, Eleanor, who was worthy of this trust. Eleanor was everything any father could wish for: beautiful, cultured, strong, carrying a heavy responsibility without complaint. But despite all this, she did not believe in love. To her, it was a repeated lie, an illusion sold in stories, with no place in reality—or perhaps no place in her heart. She gently bid her father goodbye and left the palace, taking her sleek black car and heading towards the company on the city outskirts. Night had begun to cast its shadows, and the roads dimmed their lights. Eleanor was immersed in her thoughts. Suddenly, the car stopped. She looked at the fuel gauge and was surprised to find it empty. Even the reserve she had relied on was gone. She glanced around; there was no sign of anyone nearby. The road was almost cut off, quiet to the point of unease. She sighed, took out her phone, and called her father: “Dad, my car ran out of fuel… please send someone from home with a gas can.” George replied quickly: “Of course, my daughter. Just wait a little.” She ended the call and sat waiting—not afraid, but annoyed. She wasn’t used to such surprises. In the Rivers’ palace, George went upstairs and knocked on the door of his middle daughter Emma’s room—the university student who had changed a lot recently. She was no longer the quiet, withdrawn girl but had begun to mature emotionally, tasting love for the first time. He entered suddenly, and she immediately ended her call: “Yes, Zara, I’ll talk to you later.” George knew perfectly well that she was not talking to her friend but to the young man who had settled in her heart. Yet he did not reprimand her. Instead, he said with balanced kindness: “Emma, Eleanor’s car ran out of fuel on the way to the company. Take a gas can and go to her, please.” Emma hesitated for a moment and said: “Dad, why not send one of the servants or guards?” George smiled and said: “It’s their rest time. They are human like us and deserve their rights. We cannot break that just because we have power.” Emma admired her father’s answer, changed quickly, then called Eleanor to get her exact location, and set off. When Emma arrived at the place, she found Eleanor’s car parked by the roadside. She approached and knocked on the window. Eleanor startled and joked: “You scared me! What’s wrong?” Emma laughed and sat beside her sister in the car. She looked at her face and noticed her distraction. She gently asked: “What were you thinking about?” Eleanor sighed and said: “Do you remember our visit to the nursing home last week?” “Yes, of course.” “Do you remember the old man who was sitting alone in the corner? When he saw me, he looked terrified, as if I was a ghost from his past. I asked about him and was told he’s always like that… but my heart didn’t believe it. I feel there’s something behind his gaze.” Emma smiled and said: “As usual, you don’t just stop at material help... you want to heal psychological wounds.” Eleanor nodded: “Yes, I can’t ignore him. I’ll try to know his story and help him no matter what.” Emma patted her hand warmly and smiled: “And I’ll always be with you.” After a few moments, Emma gave Eleanor the gas can, waved goodbye with a smile, and returned to the palace. Eleanor continued her way to the company, entered quietly, picked up the required files, and left for home silently. To be continued...