Welcome to the Rose Mansion - Chapter 46
“You know, Madam Otis is quite elegant and dignified. I was too rude to her. I admit I acted too impulsively this time.”
“Mother.”
“Why do you keep calling me? You’ve been doing it since earlier.”
“Mother, please don’t come to Bertrand again.”
Their eyes met. After a moment, anger appeared on Madam Howard’s flawless face.
“Why can’t a mother come where her daughter is? What, do you really want to cut ties with me? How can you be so cruel…!”
“Traveling by train alone is dangerous. What if you get hurt?”
Madam Howard’s hazel eyes softened in confusion. Richelle realized then that it had been a long time since she had spoken kindly to her mother.
Once, they had loved and cherished each other without a shred of doubt. Yet, at some point, they began to only throw sharp blades at each other.
Richelle, feeling a sudden surge of sadness, gently took her mother’s hand. Madam Howard did not pull away.
“I can’t go home for a year because of the contract. But I’ll return as soon as it ends.”
Richelle Howard harbors resentment towards her mother—this was the undeniable truth.
Yet, at the same time, she still loved her mother.
She wanted to return to the warm and loving relationship they once had. Where they could face each other without inflicting pain, sharing private conversations with wide smiles.
The realization that being deeply hurt by someone meant you loved them that much was profound. To Richelle, her mother occupied the largest portion of her heart.
‘So, just once more.’
Let’s try one more time. Not with resentment or begging, not by running away when it becomes unbearable, but by opening up and having a sincere conversation.
Right now, she lacked the courage to talk to her mother. But perhaps, after some time apart to sort out her feelings, if she had grown a bit more mature, could it be possible then?
“I’ll definitely come back after a year. I hope we can share more stories then, like when I was younger.”
“…”
“So… will you wait for me… Mom?”
It was the first time she had used that term since her father’s death.
Madam Howard turned away. Her gaze lingered on a bouquet of roses in a white round vase.
After a not-so-short pause, she finally replied.
“…You’re speaking so nicely all of a sudden.”
Her voice trembled slightly. Madam Howard took a deep breath and looked back at Richelle.
“Alright, Richelle. Let’s meet in a year. Until then…”
Madam Howard’s face turned slightly red.
“I’ll try a little, too.”
Richelle’s mouth fell open in surprise. It was the first time her mother had ever said anything like that.
Was her mother just waiting for her daughter to reach out first?
The endless luxury, the sharp words – maybe all of it was a misguided way of expressing her mother’s sadness and guilt.
It was hard, but knowing that her mother was willing to talk brought Richelle joy.
A clear smile like the sunny days of her childhood appeared on her face. A tiny possibility of happiness that she had just managed to grasp after a long journey.
“Why are you smiling like that?”
Madam Howard stuttered the question. Richelle awkwardly rubbed her neck.
“Just happy. Is that so wrong?”
“No, it’s not bad to look at… I don’t know. It’s like I’m intoxicated by the scent of roses. My heart keeps fluttering.”
As Madam Howard awkwardly chewed on her lips and hastened towards the entrance, a fine carriage awaited outside. It seemed Madam Otis had arranged it for her guest.
Richelle helped her mother into the carriage. As the door closed and Madam Howard peered out from the carriage window, she hesitated before reaching out.
“Take care, and… stay healthy.”
Richelle approached and held her mother’s hand, wrapped in lace gloves, but the warmth was palpably clear.
“Take care of yourself too, Mother.”
Madam Howard smiled slightly. It was not an exaggerated smile but a natural, shy one.
With brief farewells, the carriage departed. Richelle watched the mansion’s gate open and close for a long time.
‘If we meet in a year…’
She hoped they could greet each other with a warm hug by then.
Richelle sincerely prayed.
…Unaware that the warmth of the hand she had just held could be the last warmth she would ever feel from her mother.
