Page 53 of Wisteria and Cloves
Julian's fingers gently tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "What your mother did wasn't discipline or teaching—it was cruelty designed to break your spirit. Real teaching accepts mistakes as part of learning.”
I took a shaky breath and nodded, not fully convinced, but I would let it go for now. It didn’t make me feel better. I felt myself become exhausted as I continued to kneel there, and Julian must have seen as he once again caressed my cheek.“Would you like to go lay down in your nest for awhile. The scones can be madeonce you rest a bit after that panic attack you had.” Julian asked softly, making me want to melt into him.
I nodded slowly, suddenly aware of how drained I felt. The panic attack had left me hollow, my limbs heavy with exhaustion.
"I think that might be best," I whispered, embarrassed by my weakness but unable to deny how desperately I needed to retreat.
"Let me walk you up," Julian offered, his voice gentle as he helped me to my feet. His arm came around my waist, not controlling but supporting, and I found myself leaning into his strength.
Christopher touched my arm lightly. "We'll finish these later when you're feeling better. No rush, no pressure."
Miles had already cleared away the remaining evidence of my mishap, his movements purposeful but unhurried. "Rest well, Lilianna. Everything's fine here."
The staircase seemed longer than before as Julian guided me up, his presence steady beside me. When we reached my room, he paused, looking down at me, “Do you want me to stay with you?”
I did. I wanted someone to stay and comfort me, but I also knew I couldn’t ask him to do that. He had been busy before, he had said he had a conference, “No. You can go back to what you are doing. I am going to lay down for a bit.”
I didn’t let him know that I was lying and did want him to stay. I gave him a small, but forced smile. Julian looked down at me, eyes unreadable before he gave a sigh, “Alright. I will be back later to check on you.”
I nodded, letting myself into my room and shutting the door, as I let my body sag against the door and onto the ground, my body shaking as I let my tears fall fully… as I let myself cry trying to not let anyone hear me.
So much for a good day. I really was a useless omega.
Chapter Nineteen
Christopher
Iwatched Julian guide Lilianna up the stairs, my heart aching at her trembling form. The moment they disappeared from view, I slammed my palm against the counter, a rare display of anger that made Miles look up sharply.
"She made her kneel on broken glass," I hissed, keeping my voice low despite the fury coursing through me. "What kind of monster does that to their child?"
Miles's expression was dark, his normally gentle eyes hard with controlled rage. "The kind that sees their daughter as property rather than a person." He finished wiping down the counter with more force than necessary. "I knew her parents were controlling, but this..."
"It explains so much," I said, running a hand through my hair as I tried to process what we'd just learned. "The way sheflinches when she makes the smallest mistake. How she watches us constantly for signs of disapproval."
Miles nodded grimly, tossing the dishrag into the sink. "And the panic attack when the bowl broke. Her body went into full trauma response before her mind could catch up."
I moved to the counter where our abandoned scone dough sat, suddenly feeling the weight of every small kindness we'd need to show her. "She was terrified we'd punish her. Actually terrified."
"Did you see how she couldn't believe we weren't angry?" Miles asked, his voice tight with barely contained emotion. "Like she was waiting for the punishment to come."
I began covering the dough with a clean kitchen towel, my movements automatic while my mind raced. "She apologized for wasting our time. Our time." I shook my head, the absurdity of it hitting me fresh. "As if she's some burden we're tolerating rather than someone we want here."
The refrigerator hummed in the background as I tried to steady my breathing. "What else has she endured that we don't know about? If her mother would do that over a perfume bottle..."
Miles leaned against the counter, his expression grim. "We're only seeing the tip of the iceberg. Twenty-three years of that kind of treatment doesn't just disappear overnight."
I gathered the remaining baking supplies, organizing them with methodical precision to help calm my racing thoughts and boiling rage at the treatment she’s endured from those who should have loved and protected her. "Did you notice how she tensed when Julian touched her face? Like she expected his hands to hurt her instead of comfort her?"
"But she let him help her upstairs," Miles pointed out, a hint of hope in his voice. "That's something, at least. She's starting to trust us, even if it's just in small moments."
The back door opened, and Nicolaus walked in, his hair still damp from his swim, his eyes immediately scanning the kitchen. "I could hear raised voices from outside. What's wrong?"
Miles and I exchanged a look, neither of us sure how to explain what had just happened.
"Lilianna had a panic attack," I said finally, my voice still tight with emotion. "She accidentally dropped a bowl while we were baking, and it triggered something."
Nicolaus set down his swim bag, his analytical gaze taking in the cleaned kitchen, the covered dough, and our obvious distress. "What kind of trigger?"
