Hate Grows From Love

1
It was five years after my divorce from Richard when I saw the little girl in the corner tea shop I now owned.
She couldnt have been more than six or seven, pretty as a porcelain doll, with a startling familiarity in the curve of her eyes. She just stood there, staring at me.
The moment our eyes met, a wave of memories I had buried so deep came rushing back to the surface. I felt an unconscious, desperate urge to keep her with me.
Hello, little one, I said, my voice softer than I intended. Would you like to try some of this tea? Its called Springs Secret. Its very nice.
She took the small cup with delicate hands and listened quietly as I rambled, filling the silence. I told her that I once owned the largest tea emporium in the country, but it was taken from me. I told her I once had a daughter, too, who would have been about her age.
The little girl looked up at me with curious eyes. Do you hate them? The bad people who took your things?
I looked down at her for a long moment, then a slow smile spread across my face. You can only hate where there was once love, I said softly. Its been five years. I let it all go a long time ago.
Suddenly, the heavens opened up, and rain began to pour down outside.
The girl paused mid-sip, a little frown creasing her brow. Oh no! she muttered. The pretty lady put a spell on Nora, and now Im going to be late for Daddys engagement party! And my driver isnt here
Her eyes scanned the street outside the shop, and then she let out a little gasp. Wait is that Daddys coat? Is he here to get me?
I followed her gaze and saw the dark sleeve of a mans suit flash past the doorway, but no one came in. Probably just someone seeking shelter from the downpour.
I turned back to Nora, unconcerned. Dont you worry. Ill take you when the rain lets up.
She tilted her head, her bright eyes shining with a sudden warmth. Thank you, miss. She leaned in conspiratorially. Besides, Daddy would never come in here. He only loves whiskey. He hates tea more than anything! He hates it, and he wont let me like it either. Hes so bossy!
As she complained, her words painted a picture of a man I knew all too well. He, too, hated the scent of tea and he, too, hated me.
Noras voice pulled me from my thoughts. So, wheres your daughter? Is she at school? she asked, swinging her little legs from the chair.
I turned to clean the tea set, and my hand faltered for a second under the running water.
Shes gone, I said, my voice quiet. It happened when she was very little.
Nora was silent for a moment. Im sorry, she whispered.
Its alright. I set down the teapot and gazed out at the grey, rain-streaked sky. My daughters death was a thorn buried deep in my heart, and even the slightest mention was agony. But for some reason, I felt compelled to share it with this little girl.
I offered her a small, sad smile. Would you like to hear my story?
My name is Ava, and I was once the heiress to the largest tea corporation in New York. My childhood friend was Richard Vance, the sole heir to the Vance Spirits empire. Our families were old friends, incredibly close.
But he and I couldnt stand each other.
I was allergic to whiskey, and he despised the scent of tea. Every time we met, it ended in a screaming match.
Then, when we were eighteen, our families went on a trip together. There was an accident. The car smashed through the guardrail. Richard had a clear chance to save his parents, but instead, he threw himself at me.
His mother and father died on impact.
My parents were overwhelmed with a mixture of gratitude and guilt. When Richard took over his familys company, they liquidated nearly all of their assets to help him stabilize the stock price.
It played out like a movie script. Thrown together by tragedy, we fell in love. I discovered that the man with the sharpest tongue could become impossibly tender. He memorized all my favorite things. He would stand in line for an hour every morning just to buy the artisanal croissants I loved. He would force himself to drink a whole cup of my strongest tea when I was feeling playful, even though it made him sick. On our wedding day, his hand trembled slightly as he placed the ring on my finger.
If only I had known then what was truly in his heart, I wouldnt have mistaken his trembling for nervous excitement.
Nora frowned, interrupting my story. But if Mr. Vance was so nice, how could he let someone steal your company?
Its a question even a six-year-old could figure out. But I had been blind.
After we were married, he was even better to me, putting me before everything. But whenever I was brewing tea, I would catch him staring at my profile, a strange, lost look on his face. It was a complex expression, a mixture of struggle and guilt. At the time, I thought he was still grieving.
A year later, on the exact same stretch of road as the first accident, my parents car went off a cliff. The brakes had failed.
At their funeral, I collapsed into Richards arms, sobbing until I nearly passed out. But then, he pushed me away. He stood in the center of the room and produced a set of documents.
Ive acquired Sterling Tea, he said, his voice flat and cold. This is what you and your family owed me. I wont divorce you, but that is all you will ever have from me.
I stared at his retreating back, my world crumbling around me. On that day, I lost the three people I loved most. On that day, I became the biggest joke in New York.
Nora slammed her little hands on the table, her face flushed with anger. He cant do that! Hes a monster! A big, mean thief!
I smiled and stroked her hair. In the adult world, things are rarely so black and white.
In the days after the funeral, I barely slept. I desperately needed to prove that none of it was real. While arranging my parents burial, I used the last of my money to hire a private investigator.
The truth was a cold blade to the heart.
Richard was right. We did owe him. The accident all those years ago my father had planned it. He only intended for Richard's father to be injured, giving him an opening to seize a larger market share. He never meant for anyone to die.
Human nature is a tangled thing, isn't it? My father could give a man his entire fortune out of guilt, yet he could also orchestrate a tragedy for a sliver of profit.
Richard had played the long game, humbling himself until the perfect moment for revenge arrived.
And I, on a rainy night, simply walked away from the Vance mansion and never looked back.
Noras eyes welled with tears. But he was so good to you before Hes just like my daddy. He hates tea, and he doesnt know how to cherish his wife. Her shoulders slumped. Ive never even met my mommy. Ive had a nanny my whole life. And today today my daddy is getting engaged to her. But shes always telling me what a bad person my mommy was. I dont like her.
The word nanny sent a jolt through me. I was about to ask more when a loud crash from the doorway made us both jump.
The man in the suit was still there, scrambling to pick up the pieces of a shattered teapot he had knocked over.
I started to go and help, but Nora grabbed my arm, holding me back. She squinted at the figure outside, then looked at me, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Dont worry about him, miss! Let the big dummy clean it up himself! So, did you leave that mean man?
I drifted back into the past. I was going to. But then I found out I was pregnant.
The next time I saw Richard was a month later, in a hospital. I had collapsed from exhaustion. As I drifted in and out of consciousness, I smelled that familiar, sharp scent of whiskey. When I opened my eyes, he was sitting there. He looked away, but not before I saw the redness in his eyes and heard the rasp in his voice.
Youre pregnant and you didnt even know? Are you an idiot?
I slapped him. Hard. The sound echoed in the quiet room. As his head snapped to the side, my hand instinctively reached for him, but I pulled it back. While he was out talking to the doctor, I fled back to my tiny rented apartment.
The next day, he was standing at my door with a suitcase.
Go away, I said coldly, trying to close the door.
He pushed his way inside.
After that, no matter how much I screamed at him, hit him, or threw things, he remained silent. I threw his suitcase out dozens of times, but every day when I came home from work, I would find him in the kitchen, awkwardly trying to cook nutritious meals for me. At night, I would wake to find him curled up on the sofa, too tall to even stretch his legs out.
Two months later, he collapsed from exhaustion and nearly died.
I gave in.
I moved back into the Vance mansion, with a plan to leave for good after the baby was born. He hired a nanny to help, but he still insisted on doing everything himself. The days were quiet and warm, and I found myself sinking into a comfortable illusion, unable to pull away.
One morning, I saw Richard getting up before dawn, dark circles under his eyes, just to make me breakfast. I clutched the jade pendant my mother had left me and followed him to the kitchen, thinking I would join him, like old times.
But what I saw was Richard and the nanny, locked in a passionate kiss.
That night, I was rushed to the hospital.
My daughter was born premature. I was so weak I couldn't even hold her. Richard stood by the bed, his eyes red-rimmed, wanting to touch her tiny hand.
I turned my face away. My voice was an empty whisper.
Richard Vance. Lets just let each other go.
Noras teacup slipped from her fingers and shattered on the floor, the sharp sound yanking me back to the present.
Richard Vance? she repeated, her voice trembling. That man his name is Richard Vance?
Her expression changed in an instant. She shot up from her chair, her eyes flooding with tears as she stared at me. I was taken aback, but I nodded slowly.
So its true Nora whispered, her gaze a whirlwind of emotionexcitement, sadness, understanding. Suddenly, she threw herself into my arms, her voice choked with sobs.
So you left him? You never saw him or your daughter again?
I held her tightly, feeling her small body tremble as her tears soaked my shirt. Nora, what is it? Whats wrong?
She looked up, her face a mess of tears. Please, miss! You have to tell me! Why did you say your daughter was gone?
I looked at her tear-streaked face, and a wild, impossible thought sparked in my mind. A thought I didnt dare believe.
My arms tightened around her as I continued my story.
The truth is, the signs were there all along.
Richard had hired the nanny, Lynn, because he was afraid the smell of whiskey on him would trigger my allergies. She was young, barely in her twenties, with a simple, innocent face, but she was surprisingly experienced with newborns.
And she loved to drink.
Richard, who had never been comfortable around women, let his guard down with Lynn. They developed an easy rhythm in the kitchen. When he was developing a new blend, she was the first one he asked to taste it. I saw the way he looked at her, the growing softness in his eyes. I wasn't blind.
But I was scared. I was terrified that if I said anything, I would shatter the fragile peace we had found. It wasnt until much later that I understood that a soured love is like spoiled wine; trying to swallow it will only poison you.
The day I decided to leave, I lifted my daughter from her crib. But Richard grabbed my wrist, his grip so tight it was frightening.
Theres nothing between me and Lynn! he roared. Come back with me.
He locked me in the mansion and took away my phone, my laptop, everything.
Richard, youre insane! I screamed, struggling against him, but I was still weak from childbirth.
Lynn stood by, her face a mask of concern. Sir, she said softly, the mistresss symptoms they seem like postpartum depression. I have experience with this. I can take good care of her and the young miss.
The door locked. I heard his footsteps pause outside for a long time before finally fading away.
From that day on, Richard rarely came home.
And from that day on, my personal hell truly began.
The next morning, Lynn brought in my breakfast. When I refused to eat, she smiled. Ava, youre so unstable. It wouldnt be good if you hurt the baby.
Before I could react, she strode to the crib and snatched my daughter.
What are you doing! I lunged for her, but she sidestepped me easily. She stood in the doorway, cradling my child, her eyes a mixture of pity and triumph.
The master said you need to rest.
The door clicked shut behind her.
I pounded on the wood. Give me back my baby! All I heard was my daughters crying, growing fainter and fainter.
After that, the only time I was allowed to see my daughter was for ten minutes a day, to breastfeed her. Lynn always stood over me, watching me like a hawk.
Then, one day, I saw it. A large, dark bruise on my daughters tiny arm.
From then on, I found new marks every day. Needle pricks, burns, bruises, pinch marks. Every time I confronted Lynn, my voice raw with hysteria, she would just look at me with that same pitying expression.
Maam, are you having hallucinations again? You did that yourself yesterday when you lost control. I couldnt stop you.
I couldnt take it anymore. One night, I waited until Richard came home and screamed through the locked door. Richard! You have to save our daughter! Lynn is hurting her!
There was a long silence from the other side, then his weary voice. Ava Lynn told me everything. You need to calm down. Stop hurting our child, and stop accusing innocent people.
My heart turned to ice.
The last time I saw her, my daughters body was covered in angry red welts and horrifying blisters. It looked like she had been scalded.
I completely lost my mind. I threw my body against the door, screaming for Lynn to give me back my baby.
Lynn appeared in the doorway, holding my daughter, who was sobbing convulsively. Behind her stood Richard, his face a thunderous mask of rage.
Sir, Lynn said, her eyes welling with tears as she held up her own burned hand. The mistress she threw the baby into boiling water. I tried to stop her, but I wasnt strong enough
Richard looked at the blisters covering his daughters body, and the last flicker of trust he had in me died. He snatched the baby from Lynns arms and looked at me as if I were a monster.
Ava, youd even hurt your own child just to get away from me? You make me sick.
The door was locked again, and this time, so was my heart.
For the next six months, I became a puppet, doing whatever Lynn said to protect my daughter from more harm.
Ms. Lynn, please, just let me see her. Just for a minute.
She would look down at me. Get on your knees and scrub the floor with your hands.
I would do it immediately, scrubbing until my nails bled, all for ten minutes with my child. I did whatever she asked. I endured it all.
Until my daughters first birthday. That was the day I put my year-long plan into action.
During the party, while everyone was distracted, I picked the lock on my door and took my daughter. Lynn and Richard were busy with guests. I changed into a janitors uniform and carefully placed my sleeping baby inside a rolling trash can.
Step by step, I made my way towards the main entrance. No one even glanced at me. My heart pounded in my chest. Finally, I pushed the bin out the front doors of the Vance mansion.
Tears of relief streamed down my face. I scooped my daughter into my arms and ran.
I rounded the corner of the street, and my breath caught in my throat.
The person who was supposed to be there to help me was gone. Instead, Lynn was standing there, a strange, familiar smile on her face. Behind her stood two large men in black suits.
Just as I expected, Ava.
A cold dread washed over me. I turned to run, but the men were too fast.
When I woke up, I was on a second-floor balcony, overlooking the party guests below. Lynn was standing behind me, holding my daughter.
My body was weak, but I forced myself to my feet, stumbling towards her, trying to get my baby back.
Lynns face was a mask of sorrow, but her eyes were cold and cruel. Go on, then. Take her.
I reached out my hands.
The moment her tiny body was in my arms, Lynn let go.
The world seemed to stop.
I threw myself forward, but it was too late. I could only watch her fall.
A tiny body, surrounded by a halo of crimson on the stone patio below.
The guests screamed.
What happened? Is that his wife? She killed her own child!
The rumors were true! Shes insane!
I dont remember much after that. Only the burning sting of whiskey that Lynn threw on me, and Richards hands on my shoulders, squeezing so hard I thought my bones would break.
Ava! You monster! Youd kill your own daughter just to leave me! Fine! Ill give you what you want! Lynn, call the police! Ill make her pay for this!
He never gave me a chance to explain. He never even remembered that I was allergic to whiskey, that I never touched the stuff.
The court found me guilty of murder under the influence. I was sentenced to five years. I was released a year early for good behavior.
I left New York, that city of ghosts, and came to Boston to open this little shop.
And thats the end of the story, I said, my voice hollow. I should probably get you home now.
I stood up, but Nora clung to me, sobbing uncontrollably.
But you didnt see her! You didnt see her die! How do you know shes gone? she cried. Shes not! Shes alive!
A tremor went through my entire body. I looked down at her, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Just then, the shop door creaked open.
The man in the black suit finally stepped inside.
His eyes were bloodshot. He looked at me, then at Nora.

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