Illusion of Light

"Why are you crying?"

The steady voice pierced through the relentless rain. Fifteen-year-old Tess stood shivering under the sprawling branches of the osmanthus tree. The cold rain soaked her thin clothes, chilling her to the bone. Her cheek burned with a stinging heat from her foster father's brutal slap. Through the heavy downpour, young Gideon Drexel materialized. He stood tall in a checkered suit, black leather shoes, and a neat bow tie. He held a wide umbrella, sheltering her from the storm. His handsome face was a mask of detached calm, carrying an air of mature authority far beyond his years. She remembered the rough texture of the umbrella handle as he handed it to her, the sheer contrast between her muddy, bruised reality and his impeccable world. In that freezing moment, he became the beacon of light in her shattered world.

She had followed that singular light blindly. She let it draw her deep into the intimidating orbit of the Drexel family. That was how she met his older half-brother, Conrad, and Conrad's destined bride, Valerie.

Tess blinked. The sweet scent of osmanthus faded into the harsh chill of the present. The cold reality snapped her out of the memory. The underlying truth finally clicked into place.

Gideon had always watched Valerie. He proposed to Tess shortly after Valerie and Conrad's lavish wedding. She had said yes with a full heart, foolishly believing he loved her. But he just needed a convenient shield. He used Tess to ease his older brother's growing suspicions. He married her to hide his own forbidden craving for Valerie.

Now Conrad was dead, killed in a horrific car crash. Valerie had supposedly lost her baby. The last remaining obstacles vanished. Gideon's deep secret could step out into the sun. Tess, the disposable tool, could be cast aside like trash.

Tess turned away from the quiet intersection. She forced her aching legs to carry her back to Drexel Manor. The vast estate loomed in the distance. The front grounds boasted a grand garden gazebo and a pristine pool courtyard. The main three-story classical villa housed Gideon's grandparents, his father, and his stepmother. The property split into two separate wings. Conrad had lived in the east courtyard. Gideon claimed the west, a place called Oakwood Haven.

Tess walked up the sweeping driveway. Several servants knelt in the dirt, tending the vibrant flower beds. As she passed, they paused their work. They cast disgusted glares in her direction. Hostility radiated from their eyes. They firmly believed she had maliciously pushed Valerie down the stairs.

Tess let out a bitter laugh. Valerie possessed a terrifying talent for theatrics. For the past three months, Valerie had played the role of the devoted expecting mother. She ate meticulously planned, nutritious meals. She played soothing classical music for her belly. She drank only plain water, abandoned all her makeup, and even gave up her manicures. She made sure everyone saw her daily sacrifices for Conrad's final bloodline.

Because of that flawless performance, no one would ever suspect the truth. They remained blind to Valerie's calculated act. Valerie had intentionally thrown herself down those stairs to lose the child.

Tess ignored the whispers trailing behind her. She did not bother to defend herself against the accusations spoken in hushed, vicious tones. She bypassed the grand main house and headed straight to the isolated quarters of Oakwood Haven. The space felt devoid of warmth. She knew instinctively Gideon was not there.

She walked up the silent staircase and pushed open the bedroom door. Their massive wedding portrait hung above the bed. The painted smiles looked distant and emotionless.

Tess walked into the master bathroom. She washed the mud from her skin and carefully bandaged her still-bleeding arm. She changed into a grey tracksuit. She dragged a small suitcase from the closet and laid it on the floor.

During her grueling year of marriage, she had accumulated little of her own. She began to pack. She meticulously gathered her worn books and the cheap clothes she had brought from the Dalton estate. She deliberately bypassed the sprawling walk-in closet. Row upon row of designer garments hung untouched. She left behind every expensive silk dress, every designer handbag, and every piece of diamond jewelry Gideon had ever bought her. Those were gifts meant for a doll, for a prop used to placate his brother. Her personal items barely filled the bottom of the suitcase. Closing the zipper felt like severing the final tie.

She walked down the hall to the study. She turned on the machine and printed two crisp copies of a formal divorce agreement. A decade of blindly chasing childish dreams. A grueling year of marriage. It all amounted to deceit and profound pain. She was walking away with nothing but the clothes on her back.

Tess returned to the bedroom. She placed the printed papers squarely on the bedside table. Just as she smoothed out the pages, the heavy bedroom door swung open.

Gideon walked in. His posture remained rigid, but dark circles shadowed his eyes. He looked exhausted from his relentless days at the hospital. He cast a brief, indifferent glance at her. He showed no surprise at seeing her standing there. He walked straight toward the master bathroom.

His hand gripped the brass doorknob. He paused. He didn't turn around.

"Weren't you abducted?" he asked in a flat tone.

A sneer escaped Tess's lips. The nauseating irony stung deep in her chest. She had faced public scorn and collapsed in the dirt. It was her own husband who had pushed her to the muddy ground. His rough hands had caused the horrific miscarriage of their own child. He had abandoned her at the hospital, leaving her defenseless. Criminals had dragged her away in the night.

While she lay feverish and bleeding in the back of a rusted van, her kidnappers had tended to her wounds. They had physically stopped her from hurting herself as thunder roared outside. And during that nightmare, her husband was busy attentively nursing Valerie. He was fetching medicine and applying fever patches for another woman.

A single, long-buried tear escaped her eye. It trickled down her pale cheek. Tess reached up and quietly wiped it away before he could notice.

Gideon stepped into the bathroom. The heavy door clicked shut. The shower turned on.

Tess walked out onto the balcony. She stood quietly among the potted flowers. The afternoon sunlight cast a faint glow over her skin, making her feel like a fading ghost.

The bathroom door opened. Gideon emerged, his waist wrapped tightly in a crisp white towel. Water dripped from his dark hair. He barely noticed her standing silently on the balcony. He walked briskly into the massive walk-in closet.

He stopped. His sharp eyes fell upon the unusual sight of her packed suitcase on the floor. He stared at it for a brief second before pulling out a tailored suit.

He stepped back into the bedroom, fully dressed. He walked toward the bed. His gaze landed on the bedside table. He frowned as he read the bold letters printed across the top of the pages: Divorce Agreement.

Tess stepped back inside from the balcony. She opened her mouth to broach the heavy subject. She needed to demand his signature.

Before she could speak, Gideon's distant, authoritative voice echoed sharply in the room.

"Val's emotionally fragile. You take care of her."

Tess looked up sharply. Her eyes widened in shock.

"What did you say?"

She genuinely convinced herself she must have misheard his absurd command.

Gideon picked up the two divorce papers. He casually tossed them onto the messy bed. His dark gaze turned icy and unyielding.

"Val lost the baby because of you," he stated with chilling indifference. "Go to the hospital, take care of her. It's your responsibility."

"Never."

Tess instinctively took a large step backward. Her pale face filled instantly with unshakeable rejection.

He wanted her to serve the very woman who ruined her. Her own innocent child had been cruelly ripped from her body. The last remaining light in her world had been permanently extinguished. She had no energy left to argue. Explanations were pointless now. When she realized their entire relationship was built on exploitation, words lost their meaning. No one in this house would ever believe her anyway. Her baby was never coming back.

"It's not up to you," Gideon sneered. His deep voice dropped to a freezing, dangerous chill.

He didn't wait for her response. Striding aggressively across the large room, he closed the distance between them in seconds. He reached out and grabbed Tess's slender, bandaged wrist. His grip clamped down like a steel vice, crushing the fresh gauze and driving a sharp spike of pain up her arm. He ignored her explicit boundaries. He ignored the trauma etched across her face. He turned and dragged her relentlessly toward the heavy wooden door.