Filed to story: Seventeen Heartbreaks: When Love Has No Voice
“Sorry, Mrs. Kensington, we seem to have misconstrued Mr. Kensington’ directives. We were simply adhering to protocol. Please don’t be offended or hold this against us.”
Lacey was exhausted by their antics and no longer had the energy to spar with them. Landon might have appeared to take her side, but she was keenly aware that his indifference stemmed from impatience and a desire to avoid any inconvenience.
Lacey couldn’t help but scoff inwardly. If it had been Leila, Landon, with his insufferable possessiveness, would have stormed to the gate himself to scrutinize this so-called friend. But for Lacey? Not a chance. He hadn’t even bothered to inquire about her lack of transportation or the identity of this friend. The truth was, Lacey barely knew a soul in Burmoos. Landon was utterly indifferent to her affairs. It was as if he wouldn’t bat an eyelid if she betrayed him.
The realization stung, deepening Lacey’s despair. She turned away, her face a mask of gloom, dismissing the guards’ belated apologies.
In the confines of the study, Leo observed Landon terminate the call. He couldn’t suppress his concern.
“Mr. Kensington, if I recall correctly, Lacey isn’t acquainted with anyone here. Now, she suddenly has a friend? Shouldn’t we investigate this?”
Leo had always harbored suspicions about Lacey’s erratic behavior. It was as if she were concealing something. Previously, it wouldn’t have warranted attention, but the circumstances had changed. Lacey was on the verge of marrying Landon. Any issues with the Kensington family’s inner circle could prove detrimental.
Landon’s response was blunt.
“There’s no need to investigate. I don’t care who this person is or if Lacey betrays me. After all, I’ve never truly considered her mine. Let her do as she pleases.”
Leo, discerning a calculated plan behind Landon’s nonchalance, felt a wave of relief wash over him.
“I understand, Mr. Kensington.” Landon proceeded to brief Leo on the next steps in his scheme.
Leo’s forehead creased with worry when he heard this.
“Mr. Kensington, are you certain this is the right thing to do? If Mrs. Kensington discovers what you’re planning, she’ll be furious.”
Leo had started calling Leila “Mrs. Kensington.”
Most people only saw the fight between the Kensington Group and the Nixon Group, but Leo understood what was truly happening. Landon wouldn’t have acted this way if he hadn’t had deep feelings for Leila. Landon’s actions might have been a bit underhanded, but he seemed to find a strange sort of satisfaction in them. Because of this, Leo chose not to interfere with Landon’s plans.
Landon’s actions against the Nixon Group seemed insignificant, like small ripples that wouldn’t cause any real harm to the Nixon Group.
But Landon’s next move was different. It was a large wave that threatened to crash down on them.
Leo knew Leila well. If Landon’s actions caused real damage, Leila would never forgive Landon.
Landon knew exactly what Leo meant, and a sad smile touched his lips.
“Believe me, I wouldn’t do this if there was any other way. I just need her to be honest with me. I need to understand why she did those things. This is the only way she’ll ever open up to me.”
Leo let out a sigh and gave a small nod. He felt stuck.
“Alright, Mr. Kensington. I’ll take care of it.”
The weather was perfect, with just enough warmth in the air to feel comforting.
Leila considered paying Brysen a visit, her thoughts circling the same question she’d asked herself for weeks now: Was Brysen truly getting better?
Life hadn’t been kind to Brysen-or to Leila. Leila often found herself burdened by the weight of other people’s pain, carrying their suffering as if it were her own.
Determined to give Brysen a safe place to heal, Leila had arranged for her to stay at a private retreat she managed in secret.
It wasn’t just any retreat. Leila had hired the best doctors and caregivers to ensure Brysen’s safety and well-being. She had taken every precaution to guarantee Brysen wouldn’t be hurt or mistreated again.
A month had passed since Brysen was admitted. Her progress was undeniable. The once-tangled mess of her emotions seemed to be smoothing out, little by little. She no longer looked like a storm had swept through her soul. Instead, she carried herself with a quiet serenity.
Sometimes, Leila would catch Brysen sitting alone with a book in hand, her focus undisturbed. It was in those moments that Leila dared to hope-hope that Brysen might finally be healed.
With that thought in her heart, Leila quickened her steps. Her voice rose with warmth as she called out, “Brysen!”.
Brysen looked up, her smile as radiant as sunlight breaking through the clouds.
“Miss Nixon,” she greeted, her tone filled with a respect that struck Leila deeply.
Hearing this title, Leila’s chest tightened with emotion, and her eyes prickled with unshed tears.
“Brysen, are you feeling better now?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
But Brysen didn’t respond right away. Instead, she gave Leila a gentle smile, one that seemed to hold a thousand unspoken words. Without saying more, she returned her gaze to the book in her hands, as if the question didn’t need an answer-or perhaps, the answer was too complicated to say aloud.
Just then, a doctor approached, offering Leila a professional yet kind explanation about Brysen’s progress.
“Miss Nixon, please don’t worry. Brysen’s recovery is coming along well. She’s slowly beginning to lower her guard and connect with the world around her. Her mood has brightened noticeably, and she’s learning to communicate, even if it’s just in simple ways.”
She can express herself when she needs something, which is a significant step forward.”
The doctor paused, his expression becoming more serious.
“That said, her past trauma still casts a long shadow. It’s not easy for her to open up about what she’s feeling deep inside. But with time and the right support, I’m confident she’ll continue to improve.”
His tone turned hopeful as he added, “At the pace she’s progressing, it won’t be long before she feels more like herself again.”
For Leila, these words were like sunlight piercing through a storm. It was the best news she’d heard in a long time. She glanced at Brysen, who sat quietly nearby, her fingers lightly tracing the edges of her book. Tears stung the corners of Leila’s eyes, but she held them back. Leila’s voice trembled as she said, “Thank you so much. Please take good care of her for me. Whatever it takes-money is not an issue.”
The doctor bowed his head respectfully.
“You have nothing to worry about, Miss Nixon. We’ll do everything we can. It’s our responsibility.” With that, and after a brief conversation, the doctor excused himself. The caregivers followed suit, stepping aside to allow Leila and Brysen some time alone. The retreat felt still and peaceful, the kind of quiet that made every word feel more meaningful.
Leila approached Brysen slowly and knelt beside her. She reached for Brysen’s hand, holding it gently, her touch warm and reassuring.
“Brysen,” she asked softly, “Are you happy here? Do you miss home?” The doctor’s words had sparked an idea in Leila’s mind. If Brysen was improving so much, maybe it was time to bring Brysen to her place. After all, Brysen would only need weekly visits to the retreat for treatment. Being surrounded by familiar faces and the comfort of home might speed up Brysen’s healing even more.
Brysen blinked at Leila’s question, confusion flickering in her eyes.
“Home?” she echoed, as though the word felt foreign on her tongue.
Leila’s smile was warm, her voice gentle and encouraging.
“Yes, our home,” she said.
“You’re like a sister to me, Brysen. I want you to come back with me. My three children are there too-they’ve missed you. You used to laugh and play with them so much. We can all be together again. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
As Leila spoke, a flicker of something-hope, maybe-lit up in Brysen’s gaze. Her eyes softened, and the faintest trace of a smile touched her lips. She didn’t say much, only nodding quietly. But that simple gesture told Leila everything she needed to know. Brysen wanted to go home.
Leila’s smile widened, the warmth in her expression unmistakable.
“Then it’s settled. Go with the caregivers, take your medicine like you’re supposed to, and we’ll head home this afternoon.”
Hearing this, Brysen’s face lit up with excitement. She jumped to her feet and dashed off to find the caregivers, her eagerness almost childlike.
But just as Brysen reached the door, she stopped abruptly, her feet frozen in place.
A moment later, Brysen turned and ran back to Leila. Her brows furrowed deeply, her expression hesitant. She opened her mouth to speak but seemed to struggle with the words, her emotions twisting her face into a grimace. Finally, she managed to say, slowly and deliberately, “Be careful of Clayton Morgan.”
Leila blinked, her breath catching for a moment. The name hit her like a sudden gust of icy wind. Why would Brysen bring Clayton up now? Confusion flickered across her face, but she forced herself to stay calm. She reached out and gently touched Brysen’s arm, her voice soft and reassuring.
“I know he’s not someone to trust. Don’t worry-I’m always on guard when it comes to him.”
Brysen shook her head firmly, her lips pressing into a thin line. It was clear she wanted to say more, but the effort to put her thoughts into words seemed to pull her back into memories she desperately wanted to avoid. Her brows tightened further, and a pallor spread across her face. She looked like she was on the verge of breaking, her pain etched so deeply that it was hard to watch.
Leila’s heart clenched, and she immediately stepped closer, her tone filled with quiet empathy.
“It’s okay, Brysen. You don’t have to talk about it now. Once we’re home, we’ll have all the time in the world to figure it out together.”
Brysen stared at Leila for a moment, as though weighing her words, and then gave a small nod. Without another word, she turned and followed the caregivers out of the room.
