The Rift Between Us

"A child seeks love from a mother, approval from a father. But what happens when neither is given? She learns to stand alone."

Maria Rosa Thomson did not cry that night.

She lay awake in bed, staring at the dark ceiling, listening to the silent weight of the house pressing down on her. The confrontation with Tobias Ashford had been a turning point not because she had struck him, but because her father had let her stand alone.

She had always known, deep down, that she was a burden to him. But hearing the words, “You humiliated me today,” had solidified something she had once tried to ignore.

She had humiliated him. Not Tobias. Not the boy who had insulted her mother. Not the boy who had taunted and provoked her.

No Maria was the one at fault simply because she had fought back.

She should have expected as much from Charles Thomson.

But what of her mother?

The Mother’s Lament

When the house had long since settled into silence, Maria heard the soft rustle of skirts in the hall. A hesitant knock came at her door before it cracked open, revealing her mother Isabella Rosa Thomson.

Maria turned her head slightly, watching as her mother stepped inside. Isabella was still dressed in the deep green gown she had worn that day, though now, it was wrinkled with exhaustion. She looked at Maria with an unreadable expression.

Maria’s heart tightened. Would she scold her too?

But instead, Isabella let out a weary sigh and sat on the edge of Maria’s bed.

“You shouldn’t have hit him,” she murmured, though there was no anger in her tone. Only sadness.

Maria frowned, pushing herself up. “So I should have just let him say those things?”

Her mother closed her eyes briefly before opening them again, something weary and ancient in her gaze. “You will find, Maria, that in this world, being right does not always mean you will win.”

Maria bristled at the words. “I don’t care about winning. I won’t let them walk all over me.”

A faint, almost bitter smile touched Isabella’s lips. “And that is what makes you different from me.”

Maria didn’t understand. Not yet. But she listened.

“I fought, too, once,” Isabella admitted. “Before I married your father. Before we lost everything. I thought strength was enough to survive in this world. But strength alone won’t save you, Maria. You have to be smart. You have to know when to strike and when to stay silent.”

Maria’s expression hardened. “Father didn’t even ask why I did it.”

Something flickered in Isabella’s face. Not surprise. Not anger. But a deep, quiet grief.

“No,” she said softly. “He wouldn’t.”

Maria studied her mother’s face, searching for something anything that would make sense of the cold distance her father had placed between them. But Isabella only reached out, brushing a lock of Maria’s dark hair behind her ear.

“Your father loves you, in his own way,” she said, but even Maria could hear the uncertainty in her voice. “He just… he doesn’t know how to show it.”

Maria pulled away. “He doesn’t love me.”

Isabella didn’t argue.

Perhaps because she knew that Maria was right.

Isabella’s Struggles

Silence stretched between them for a long moment. Then, Isabella sighed and stood, walking toward the window. The moonlight caught the delicate angles of her face, highlighting the quiet sorrow in her eyes.

“I was young when I met your father,” she began, her voice softer now, distant as if remembering a different lifetime. “I was not of noble birth, but I was well-educated, well-mannered enough to move in the fringes of their world.”

She ran a hand along the embroidered curtain, lost in memory. “When Charles and I met, I thought… I thought he loved me. And maybe he did, in his own way. But love, Maria, is a fragile thing when placed under the weight of society’s expectations.”

Maria watched her mother’s reflection in the glass. “Because you weren’t noble?”

“Because I wasn’t the wife his family had chosen for him.” Isabella’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Lord Edwin had other plans. Charles was meant to marry a woman of high standing, someone who could strengthen the family’s power. But then I became pregnant with you, and suddenly, there was no choice left to be made.”

Maria swallowed. She had always known that her birth had caused problems, but hearing it from her mother’s lips made it feel… heavier.

“They forced him to marry me,” Isabella continued. “Not out of kindness, but because it was the least shameful option. But even then, your grandfather saw to it that Charles was punished. He stripped him of his inheritance, cut him off from the full power of the Thomson name. And your father” She paused, then shook her head. “Your father has never forgiven me for it.”

Maria sat up fully now. “But it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t my fault.”

Isabella turned, her expression unreadable. “No. But to Charles, it was the moment his life changed forever.”

Maria clenched her fists. It wasn’t fair. Her father had been the one to choose her mother. He had been the one who stayed. And yet, he had spent her entire life resenting them for it.

“How did you endure it?” Maria asked, her voice quieter now.

Isabella let out a soft, humorless laugh. “I learned, Maria. I learned how to move through their world without making waves. I learned how to hold my tongue when I wanted to scream. And I learned that in a society like this, a woman’s strength is not in her fists, but in her ability to survive.”

Maria met her mother’s gaze. “I don’t want to survive. I want to win.”

A flicker of something fear, pride, sadness crossed Isabella’s face.

“Then you will have to be stronger than I ever was.”

Maria did not hesitate. “I will be.”

Her mother gave her one last, long look before stepping toward the door.

“Sleep, Maria,” she said. “Tomorrow, you will have to face them again.”

And with that, she was gone, leaving Maria alone with her thoughts.

A Daughter’s Resolve

Maria did not sleep that night.

Her mother’s words echoed in her mind. Strength alone won’t save you. You have to be smart.

Her father’s cold dismissal burned in her chest, solidifying into something far stronger than pain resolve.

If her mother was right, then Maria would learn. She would learn how to play their game. How to navigate their world.

But unlike her father, she would never accept their rules.

She would make her own.

And one day, they would regret underestimating her.

"Isabella’s struggles her lost dreams, her quiet suffering, and her complex relationship with Charles. It also sharpens Maria’s resolve to not just endure, but to rise."

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