The World Waited For Her Genius
The boy I raised pushed me from the third-floor landing.
My spine was splintered, my body slick with blood, yet when I pleaded with him to call for help, he just looked down and sneered, a perfect echo of his father.
"You don't get to touch my mom's things. Ever. Im telling you, you will never be Audrey!"
"You want help? I hope you end up paralyzed. I hope Dad throws you out on the street!"
I stared up at the child who, since the moment he was handed to me in a blanket, had been my sole responsibility. The agonizing pain of my broken body was nothing compared to the slow, relentless flaying of my heart.
After the emergency surgery, still woozy from the anesthesia, I found the strength to make a single international call.
"Professor Warren," I whispered into the receiver. "I'm ready to come home."
1
I hung up just as Preston, Mom, and Dad swept into the room, Leo trailing behind them, his face a mask of furious, self-pitying innocence.
"Why should I apologize to that woman!" Leo snarled, pointing a vicious finger at me. "She went and sat in Moms chair first! I just shouted, and she got scared and fell down the stairs. She wasn't even bleeding that much at first. I thought she was just putting on another one of her pathetic little shows."
The words grew crueler, yet the adults didn't stop him. They just stood there, their expressions cold and accusatory, focused entirely on me. I didn't bother to defend myself, just stared blankly out the window.
Preston's voice was a low, familiar burn. "Ainsley, Leo is talking to you. Look at him. What kind of mother ignores her own son?"
I laughed, a dry, bitter sound. "What kind of son stands over his mother's injured body, insults her, and never asks if she's in pain?"
Prestons impatience sharpened. "That's only because youre not affectionate enough, Ainsley. You're always trying to guilt him with your exaggerated dramatics."
Exaggerated dramatics?
Leo was born with a delicate constitution, constantly battling illness. I was the one who kept vigil for ten years, learning specialized acupuncture and massage, brewing every obscure Chinese tonic and medicated broth imaginable. My long, pianist fingersthe ones that earned me a scholarshipwere now calloused and swollen from endless hours of domestic labor. Leo once admitted he was scared of the dark, and I didn't close my eyes for three straight days and nights, simply sitting by his crib.
But Preston never saw it. Leo never saw it.
"Ainsley," Preston lectured, cutting into my thoughts, "when you married into the Hawthorne family, I had one requirement: Take care of Leo. Was that truly so difficult? If you couldn't even manage that, then I told you I'd divorce you"
"Then let's do it," I cut in, my voice level. "Divorce me. I don't want to be Mrs. Hawthorne anymore."
Preston froze, stunned. He hadn't expected that. After all, my family had begged for this marriage.
Ten years ago, my sister, Audrey, had married Prestonthe original planbut then her 'Holy Grail,' the one shed always loved, came back to the States. Audrey abandoned her newborn son and vanished without a trace. The Hawthorne family was furious. My parents, desperate to save the Caldwell family business, tricked me. They lured me home from my Ph.D. program, drugged me, and pushed me into Preston's bed.
The scandal was massive. With an infant Leo needing care, Preston had no choice but to marry me. We had an agreement: ten years. When Leo was old enough, the sham marriage would end. But in every argument, Preston weaponized that promise, using divorce as a threat.
Well, the threat had lost its power.
My parents erupted first. "Ainsley, what are you talking about? You cant leave! Who will take care of Leo if you go?"
Their faces, etched with disappointment, were the same ones I'd faced when I initially refused to give up the engagement. The contract was originally for me, Ainsley Caldwell, the daughter my mother carried when the deal was struck. But later, when Audrey was heartbroken by her forbidden romance and impulsively decided to marry, my parents demanded I step aside.
Seeing my silence, my mother quickly softened her tone. "Alright, alright. You're hurt, so we won't make you apologize to Leo. Just swallow your pride, honey. We'll even give you your house keys back. You can come and go as you please."
After I married Preston, they took my key to the Caldwell family home. They instructed the security and the driver to deny me entry unless I was with Leo. "Ainsley, you have to burn your boats. You must have no retreat, no home base, only then will you truly treat the Hawthorne house as your own and Leo as your own son." They were true to their word; once, when an enraged Preston threw me out, I spent the night on the porch in the rain, and they never let me in.
Preston, seeing my silence, misread it as calculation. He offered a cynical olive branch. "Fine. It's just a few cracked ribs, it's not a big deal. Stop pouting. When you're better, I'll take you to get wedding photos done."
In ten years, we hadn't taken a single photograph together. If a photo-bombing party guest accidentally caught us in the same frame, Preston would snap at me for trying to steal a moment.
But now, I wanted none of itnot his mock affection, and certainly not my parents' false pity.
"It won't be necessary," I said flatly. "I'll be gone next month."
The room plunged into a suffocating, dead silence. Then, my parents' and Preston's fury washed over me.
"Are you listening to yourself, Ainsley?"
"Leo has his Math Olympiad next month! Who will tutor him? Who will manage his schedule?"
"You're a mother! How can you be so selfish? Abandon your child over a stupid tantrum?"
A mother?
I looked at Leo, whose eyes were still burning with resentment. For a decade, he'd only called me 'Ainsley-Auntie.' For the past two years, he wouldn't even use a name, preferring 'that woman.'
He had called me 'Mom' once, when he was just learning to talk. Preston had exploded. He ripped the child from my arms and banished me from the house. "Don't waste your energy, Ainsley. Leo only has one mother!"
Even after Audrey had abandoned him, Preston reserved that title for her. Every time Leo slipped up and called me 'Mom,' Preston would punish him. Ten years, and I was just a highly paid, perpetually ignored nanny.
But it was almost over.
I faced them, calm now. "You all said it yourselves: I was only fit to occupy this position for ten years. The time is up. I'm leaving."
My parents looked at me with disappointment and irritation. "Nobody is forcing you out! Why bring that up now?" They were only worried about the Caldwell-Hawthorne business ties.
Preston, surprisingly, did not look relieved. He frowned. "What kind of excuse is that? If you'd just begged, would I really have kicked you out?" He spoke with the entitlement of a king granting a favor. "Fine, if you're worried about what people will say, I'll post a single status update on social media. I'll announce that you are officially the Mrs. Hawthorne."
He hadn't even given me a wedding. When business partners or friends came over, he introduced me with a casual wave: "The one who keeps the house and watches the kid." Everyone knew I was the desperate gold-digger who failed to climb the social ladder and whose decade-long grace period had expired.
But a title was meaningless to me now.
I replied with a cool detachment. "The doctor said I might have a permanent limp. A woman with a physical disability can't possibly be the ideal Hawthorne wife, and she certainly shouldn't raise the heir to the Hawthorne name."
Preston relaxed, assuming he had solved the riddle of my anger. "You're worried about that? Don't be silly. With my resources, no one will dare speak ill of you, and we can hire the best doctors. Stop sulking, Ainsley. What are you going to do, anyway? You've been a homemaker for ten years; you won't survive without the Hawthornes or the Caldwells."
He continued, condescendingly, "If it means that much to you, I'll have my secretary buy you a diamond ring. We'll have one family dinner, and you'll be the 'official' Mrs. Hawthorne. As for the public announcement? You can forget it. What if Audrey sees it? What if she decides not to come home?"
He ushered my parents and Leo out, leaving only his secretary to discuss my recovery.
Oh, and the offered ring.
The secretary, aloof and judgmental, approached the bedside. "Miss Caldwell, Mr. Hawthorne approved a budget of one million dollars for the ring. We can only get you a ready-made piece. If you don't know much about jewelry, just pick the most expensive one. It will count as your personal asset, by the way."
Preston always believed I was a mercenary woman who slept my way into his life, which is why he only allowed me a meager three-thousand-dollar monthly allowance from the house manager. The secretary obviously thought a million was an astonishing show of generosity. Yet the custom-made armchair I dared to sit inthe one commissioned for Audreycost ten million. The master suite, a room I had never been allowed to enter, was filled with Audrey's sacred belongings, easily worth ten times that.
I pushed the secretary's tablet away. "Just pick something. I don't care."
That ring, like everything else Preston had ever given meeven the cheap corporate gift basketswould likely just be destroyed by Leo eventually.
Besides, I wouldn't be wearing it.
Just as the secretary left, Leo came back. He opened a thermos and threw the scalding oatmeal at me.
"You better wise up and disappear fast, or next time Ill use something worse."
He was small, so the oatmeal mostly hit the sheets, but a few drops splashed my forearm. It was the same oatmeal I had woken up at four in the morning to prepare for him, yet it burned my skin like acid. Seeing the angry red marks, Leo's face broke into a satisfied smirk, and he left.
The nurse came in, changed the linens, and applied cream. As she was leaving, she paused, then spoke softly. "Some children, Miss Caldwell, are simply ungrateful."
I looked down at the bandages covering my body, and the tears finally started to fall. A stranger could see it, but I had blindly believed for ten years that genuine kindness would be returned in kind.
But whether it was Preston, my childhood friend, or Leo, the boy I raised from birthmy sincerity was always met with malice.
They didn't visit me once during the next two weeks. I hired a private aide, and on the day I was released, I returned to the Hawthorne house in a wheelchair to collect my belongings.
I opened the front door and saw them all in the living room, laughing, surrounded by warmth and joy. In the center, radiant and glowing, was Audrey, my sister, who hadnt been seen or heard from in a decade.
My parents clutched her, their eyes red. "Audrey, darling, you're back. That's all that matters. What do you want to eat? Your mother will cook it for you."
Leo was clinging to her like a baby koala. "Mom, you're finally home! I won't be the boy with no one who cares about him anymore."
Even Preston, the ice king, was smiling with undisguised adoration. "Audrey, I knew you couldn't stay away from me."
They were united, ecstatic, as if Audrey's sudden disappearancethe event that had nearly ruined themhad never happened. When my parents begged me to step in, one had claimed a heart attack and the other had cried until her eyes were nearly blind. They told me Audrey had no soul. I helped stabilize the family business, negotiated with the Hawthornes, and walked into what I knew was a marriage of fire, only because they pleaded with me. Preston, too, had spiraled into an alcoholic depression after Audrey left. I had stayed by his side, Leo in my arms, and helped him climb out of the darkness. He had solemnly promised me we would make a real life together. And Leo, when he finally realized his mother had abandoned him, had a massive breakdown, weeping day and night until I swore I would never leave him.
Ten years of devotion, completely erased by Audreys sudden return.
The sound of my wheelchair entering the room drew their attention. My parents faces flushed with embarrassment. "Ainsley, youre back? Why didn't you call ahead?" They looked at me as if I were a ghost who had ruined their perfect family portrait.
I instructed my aide to push me toward the stairs. "I couldn't reach any of you. I called hundreds of times." I needed their signatures on medical forms. I needed to discuss Leo and Preston's arrangements after my departure. Every message I sent over the past two weeks had vanished into a black hole. Yet now, they were angry at me for not calling.
Preston looked away uncomfortably. "It was just a busy couple of weeks. Go on up and rest, Ainsley. Don't strain yourself."
Rest? Since when was he attentive? He was only worried about me interrupting his reunion with Audrey.
But I no longer cared.
Leo spoke up from behind me, his voice dripping with malice. "Go crawl back into your hole! My real mother is home now. You coarse, ugly woman. You can't compare to her little finger."
Audrey was dressed impeccably, her makeup flawless, her long, manicured nails sparkling. She did look beautiful compared to my makeup-free, oversized sweatshirt look. I used to care about my appearance, but I stopped when I was caring for LeoI worried my long hair would tangle in his tiny fingers, my nails would scratch his delicate skin, and my perfume would irritate his lungs.
Leo, apparently, never noticed or cared.
I ignored him and continued upstairs. I had a phone call with Professor Warren, finalizing my arrangements. He asked one last question, his voice hesitant.
"Ainsley, are you truly sure? That's the boy you raised for ten years. And Preston... you two were childhood sweethearts. After a decade, those bonds only deepen."
Deepen? The moment Audrey appeared, I was instantly obsolete.
"Professor," I said firmly. "I've made up my mind. I don't belong here."
I hung up and sat in silence. I turned and saw Preston standing in the doorway, watching me. Seeing my startlement, he scoffed.
"Oh, come on. Stop acting. You make such a dramatic exit, and now youre suddenly talking on the phone about leaving the country? Its all for show, isn't it? Audrey is back, so now youre playing the run-away bride, trying to get me to chase you."
His familiar contempt was a dull ache. For a second, a complex mix of feelingsanger, nostalgiafloated up. Preston hadn't always been like this. He had trusted me unconditionally once. When my parents tried to force me into a boarding school a thousand miles away to clear the field for Audrey, Preston had refused to eat for three days and risked losing his inheritance until his family finally agreed to send him to my school. I truly believed we would have a fairytale ending.
I fought with all my strength against my parents' attempts to cage me, to break my will and force me out of the engagement. But when I finally escaped the basement where they were holding me, the first thing I saw was him on bended knee, slipping a ring onto Audreys finger in a lavishly decorated hall.
My parents told me Audrey was simply better than me, and Preston finally saw it. I tried to tell myself it wasn't true, but the pure joy on Preston's face when he held Audrey was undeniable.
When my parents begged me to clean up Audrey's mess, a selfish impulse was mixed into my agreement. I thought I could still get the old Preston back. Ten years of cold indifference had taught me the truth.
Preston only had eyes for Audrey.
"Dad! Did you go up to get that smelly woman to cook? What's taking so long? Mom's hungry downstairs!" Leo's shrill voice cut through my memory.
Preston glanced at me. "Stop playing your little games. Audrey specifically asked for your cooking. Go make her dinner. If you perform well, I might consider letting you stay on the property."
I gripped the arms of my wheelchair, choking down the rage. "Im injured. You want me to cook for Audrey in this condition?"
Leo shrieked again. "You don't have a real injury, you fake! Stop pretending to be an invalid!"
A few more hours, and the injury would have been permanent. Thats what the doctor said. That severe injury, in Leos eyes, was a minor inconvenience. I looked at the face I had woken up to every morning for ten years, now contorted with contempt. I couldn't find a trace of the sweet boy who used to cling to me and say, "The heavens made a mistake. I chose you to be my mom."
I pushed the emotions down.
Preston and Leo stood there, expecting compliance. The bitterness was overwhelming.
"Fine," I said, a self-deprecating smile touching my lips. "At least push me down there."
Preston scoffed and called the housekeeper. "Don't try to find excuses to get close to me, Ainsley."
In the kitchen, Audrey strolled in like the queen returning to her throne. "Thank you so much, Sister, for watching the house. I'll make sure Preston gives you a generous severance when you leave." She then proceeded to list her dinner request: "Just keep it simple, you know my tastes. Bird's nest porridge, braised sea cucumber, King Crab. Don't make a fuss."
The housekeeper whispered nervously, "But Miss Caldwell, these are complex dishes. They require four to five hours of preparation, and you said we couldn't help..."
Audrey raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Are you saying my sister is too good to make me dinner?"
My parents' voices boomed from the living room. "Ainsley, your sister has just come home! Are you going to deny her this small request?"
I had told myself I was numb, but their blatant bias still stung.
This is the last time.
I looked straight at Audrey. "I leave tomorrow. You don't need to try and torture me anymore."
Audreys face instantly lit up. "You said it, not me! I'm not running you off." She glanced at the housekeeper. "Fine, let them help you." She then flounced off, responding to the urgent calls of Preston and my parents.
With the housekeeper's pitying gaze on me, I started to cook. Even with help prepping the ingredients, operating from a wheelchair was exhausting. After what felt like an eternity, and with my injured leg throbbing, the feast was complete.
I rolled out of the kitchen. The villa was silent.
The house manager approached me, looking troubled. "Miss Caldwell, Ms. Audrey said she wanted a late-night street food snack three hours ago. Mr. Hawthorne and your parents drove her out to get it."
I felt nothing. Not surprise. Not despair.
I gave a quiet sigh. "I see. Please push me upstairs. I need to pack."
The next morning, before the sun was fully up, my arranged car arrived. The driver gasped as we were about to pull out.
"Whoa! What's this kid doing?"
I craned my neck. It was Leo, standing directly in front of the car. He was still in yesterday's crumpled clothes, shivering in the cold morning air.
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