Page 89 of Unmasking the Diamond
“I am so sorry. I failed you, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it right.”
Charlotte shook her head. “When you left, I learned that no one was going to save me. I had to do it myself.”
“Charlotte…” he started.
She stepped back, her eyes burning. “It was the only way to survive him.”
“Father is gone.”
“But his voice isn’t,” she said, tapping her temple. “It’s still here, reminding me I’ll never be enough.”
Alistair’s expression softened. “You are enough. More than enough. Look at what you’ve accomplished, and you are only ten and eight years old.”
Her throat tightened as a tear slid down her cheek. “I became the diamond to prove that I could—to prove to him that he was wrong about me.”
“Did it help?”
Charlotte shook her head, her voice breaking. “No. It feels hollow. Empty. Because no matter what I achieve, he still wins because I still believe him.”
In the next moment, Charlotte found herself enveloped in Alistair’s firm embrace. For a heartbeat, her every instinct screamed to retreat—to step back and compose herself before her walls crumbled entirely. That had always been her way: conceal, control, survive. But this time… she was simply too tired. Tired of the masquerade, of pretending that nothing ever touched her.
So instead of pulling away, she allowed herself to lean into him. Her arms came up tentatively at first, then with more certainty, and she rested her cheek against his shoulder. For the first time in years, she felt peace.
After a long silence, Alistair released her, though he stayed close, his expression a mixture of sorrow and tenderness. “Father was a cruel, vindictive, unhappy man,” he said. “He wished for everyone around him to feel the same misery he carried within himself. He isn’t worthy of your time or your thoughts.”
“I believe that to be true, but his voice will not leave me. It’s as if he lingers still, whispering that I am never enough.”
A faint smile touched Alistair’s lips, though his eyes betrayed understanding. “It isn’t easy. I still hear him, too, though softer now than before. But this”—he gestured between them—“this is a beginning. You’ve trusted me with your truth, and I admire you all the more for it.”
“I do not like being vulnerable,” she admitted, folding her arms as if to shield herself.
“No one does,” he said. “But to be vulnerable is to be brave. You are confronting your demons instead of running from them, and that is no small feat.”
Charlotte bit her lower lip, her gaze dropping to the carpet. “How did you face your past with Father?”
“It wasn’t easy,” Alistair admitted. “But I trusted Jane with the truth. I feared she would think less of me, but she didn’t. She became my solace.”
Without meaning to, an image of Luca came to her mind. She thought on the way his touch earlier had steadied her trembling hands. She pushed the thought away, irritated with herself. Why had his face appeared just now, when Alistair spoke of solace?
Did she truly see Luca as hers? Impossible.
She might have developed an inconvenient tenderness for him, but it was surely one-sided. Foolish, even. Wasn’t it?
“Charlotte?” Alistair’s voice broke through her thoughts. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly, forcing a smile. “I was merely woolgathering.”
“Was it something I said?”
She shook her head and stepped back, needing distance before he could read too much in her expression. “No. I simply believe I have had enough of soul-baring truths for one day.” Her tone was light, but her chest still felt raw.
Alistair’s answering smile was gentle, exactly as she’d hoped. “You are always welcome to speak with me, you know. We are family and we must look after one another.”
“Thank you,” she replied, turning towards the door. “Jane invited Lord Luca to dinner this evening.”
Alistair’s brows lifted, amusement flickering in his eyes. “I am not surprised. We both watched you from the window earlier.”
Charlotte spun around, mortified. “You were watching as well?”
