Chapter 134 Memories can be a real thorn in the side. If anyone else had uttered those words today, Elysia might have coped a little better. But of course, it had to be that rogue! Ariger and resentment churned within her as she fumed internally–what right did he have to judge her? By what right could he point fingers when he was the architect of her misery? Yet, her rage was tempered by the nagging doubt that he might not be the rogue who fathered her children. If she was wrong about him, then hurling insults his way would only make her the guilty party. She was tormented by this lose–lose mental struggle, feeling utterly wretched. It seemed as though, no matter what, she was always in the wrong. Her life had been a tragedy from the start, and now, six years later, the tragic narrative, persisted. Her marriage to Tarquin was a shambles, never finalized. And then there was this man who very well could be the father of her children, with no proof but suspicions galore. To make matters worse, she had somehow ended up owing him a staggering fifty million dollars. Years had passed, and upon their reunion, she should have been the one to slap some sense into him. But what happened? She ended up being the one firmly in his grasp! Being manipulated was bad enough, but he had the nerve to mock her for being unfaithful. Oh, the irony! Others in her shoes would return triumphantly, script in hand, ready to face down their past with secret skills and wealth aplenty. They’d be the rich, powerful ladies, the femme fatales! But look at her, also returning with children in tow, yet still clutching the script of the downtrodden. The powerful narratives seemed to have been claimed by the men in her life, turning into tales of male dominance. Her husband had morphed into the mighty CEO of the Bradford Group, a king in his high castle. And that rogue? Despite his alleged bankruptcy, he still overshadowed her. Her life was a mess, unchanged and unchallenged. Six years wasted in a failed attempt to turn the tables. 1/2 09-565 Elysia’s tears turned to laughter as she sat alone in a hidden corner, alternating between sobs and chuckles like a fool. Her phone buzzed. It was a video call from Evan. Elysia quickly wiped her tears and composed herself before answering. “Mommy, mommy!” Three cherubic, rosy–cheeked faces squeezed in front of the camera, each clamoring for her attention. Her heart instantly softened. “What are you munchkins up to?” “We just had breakfast, and Blossom said she’s taking us to preschool.” “Alright then, you listen to Blossom, okay?” “Mommy, where are you? Are you sitting outside by yourself?” Elliot was always so perceptive. Elysia quickly improvised, “Yeah, I’m just waiting for the bus.” “Is it cold out? Your face is all red, and your eyes too…” Elysia mustered a weak smile. “Oh, I’ve just got watery eyes, and they tear up with the wind, and then I rubbed them, so they got red. Don’t worry, my darlings. The bus is almost here, so I can’t talk long. You go on to preschool and listen to Blossom. Once I’m done with my errands, I’ll come to see you. Be good, okay?” “Okay, Mommy. And don’t worry about us, I’ll take care of Evan and Emmett.‘ “Good boy, Elliot.” “I’m good too!” Evan interjected. Emmett, unable to get a word in, puffed up his little red face as he said, “Me me me… and me me me…” Elysia’s smile bloomed. “You’re all my good boys. Elliot, Evan, Emmett, you’re all mommy’s precious angels.” Their laughter was as bright as three little suns, warming Elysia’s heart through and through. After hanging up the phone, her anger had dissipated. What did it matter if fate was cruel? So what if life was a tragedy? Who needed a heroic lead’s script anyway? She had her three wonderful boys, and that was her pride and joy.