Too Late To Call Me Daughter

Cecilia’s POV

“That’s my daughter,” Father said proudly, his eyes on Eva before he cast me a dismissive glance. “Apologize to Eva and your mother, Cece. You’ve upset them again.”

Eva’s expression changed the moment no one else was looking. The warmth vanished. Her eyes gleamed with quiet mockery, as if daring me to expose her right there at the table.

Growing up, Eva’s favorite game had been comparison. My quiet nature against her bright charm. My reserved manners against her effortless social grace.

Everyone adored her, even Papa, Mama and my own brother.

I had been hurt by it for as long as I could remember.

But now… surprisingly, I didn’t feel hurt.

In fact, I didn’t feel anything at all.

So I smiled. “I’m sorry. It was my fault. It won’t happen again.”

The room fell silent.

Every pair of eyes turned to me, stunned. My apology had clearly shaken them. Even Father’s anger cracked for a second—but only for a second. He covered it with an awkward laugh.

“That’s right,” he said, clearing his throat. “We’re family. If you admit your mistake, no one will hold it against you. We’re family, after all…”

Family… what a family I had…

“If you’ll excuse me,” I said evenly, “I’d like to go upstairs and rest.”

There was nothing left for Father to criticize. I had apologized. Eva and Mother, always aligned with him, said nothing more.

I turned toward the stairs.

Before I could step onto the first stair, a hand caught my wrist.

“Cece.” Adam’s voice, “You’re not still upset that I hung up on you the other day… are you?”

He had been the only one who answered my call, also the one who told me not to bother them and ruin my family’s important night.

I turned and looked at him calmly. “What? If I were upset, would you go back in time and not hang up?”

His expression tightened. “That’s not what I meant. I was worried about you. You disappeared after that call. And now you’re saying you had surgery…”

He reached for my hand again. I stepped back and shook him off.

“I’m tired. I need to rest.”

I won’t pretend his sudden concern didn’t stir something old inside me—sadness, maybe even a flicker of anger.

But my heart had just survived surgery. It couldn’t afford those feelings anymore.

“But—” Adam tried again.

He wouldn’t let this go unless I gave him something.

“No,” I said quietly. “I’m not upset.”

Relief crossed Adam’s face so fast it almost hurt to see.

“Good,” he exhaled. “That’s good. Since you’re not upset… I know we planned to get our marriage license this Thursday. It would’ve marked our one-thousandth day together. But at Eva’s debut, she invited everyone on a family trip to Italy. She wants to visit your father’s weapons factory before she officially joins the business…”

He paused, watching me carefully.

That’s right… Adam and I had chosen this Thursday to register our marriage. One thousand days together—a date that felt symbolic, almost sacred. If we missed it, there wouldn’t be another one quite like it.

Yet until he mentioned it, I had forgotten.

For the past few days, all I had thought about was whether I would survive the surgery, whether my heart would keep beating.

Marriage had seemed… distant.

Looking at Adam now—at the way he chose each word so carefully—I could tell he’d expected a scene. A protest. Anger. Maybe even tears.

So when I didn’t respond, he rushed to fill the silence.

“It’ll only be a short trip,” he said quickly. “About a week. Then we can register the following Thursday instead.”

His urgency to fulfill Eva’s wish made every memory we shared feel faint, almost laughable.

But I was too numb to even feel properly betrayed.

If I could lie on an operating table alone, then postponing a marriage license for Eva’s convenience was nothing.

“Alright,” I said.

Adam blinked. “For real? You’re not joking?”

I shook my head. “I’ll call and cancel it today.”

He reached for my hand. “No—don’t cancel it. Just call the city council office and delay it.”

I gently pulled my hand free and continued toward the stairs.

Cancel or delay. What difference would it make?

Eva would always find another reason, another trip, another event, another excuse to push it back further.

She might not openly take Adam from me. But she would make sure I never truly had him.

Growing up, everything I loved had slowly shifted into her hands.

Papa and Mama’s affection. Sebastian’s admiration. Friends. Professors.

And now Adam.

The way Adam had looked at her tonight—like they shared something private—made it painfully clear.

Even him… was beginning to choose her.

I forced myself to stay calm. Dr. May had been very clear: no strong emotional swings, no stress or agitation.

But I could already feel it—my heartbeat quickening, pounding too fast against my ribs.

Had I overestimated myself?

Had I secretly hoped for something more, even after my family—and my fiancé—had shown me exactly how little I meant?

I remembered the small bottle of pills Dr. May had slipped into my hand before discharge. Take one if things feel overwhelming, she had said.

My bag was already upstairs in my room.

I just needed to get there.

I turned and began climbing the stairs.

“Cece,” Eva’s voice drifted up behind me, soft and almost sweet. “Did Adam tell you we’re all flying to Italy this Thursday to visit Papa’s factory?”

I didn’t answer.

My heart was racing now, fast and uneven. All I could think about was reaching my room, taking a pill and breathing.

I had nearly died once already. I would not let myself collapse again. Not like this. Not in front of them.

Just as I reached the last few steps, a pair of shoes blocked my way.

I looked up.

Sebastian.

He shoved my shoulders. I stumbled and grabbed the railing to steady myself, but he caught my arms and yanked me around to face the living room.

“Didn’t you hear Eva?” he snapped. “Why are you ignoring her?”

His grip was iron-tight.

Normally, I might have struggled harder. But my body wasn’t what it used to be. My legs felt weak, my head light. Nausea rose sharply in my throat, and my breath shortened into shallow pulls.

This is bad. These were the same warning signs I’d felt in the hospital before everything spiraled.

But my silence seems only irritated Sebastian further. He dragged me down the stairs and forced me to stand in front of Eva and Adam.

“Let me go,” I managed, my voice thin as I fought the urge to vomit—or faint.

He didn’t release me.

Neither Eva nor Adam moved to stop him.

“Apologize,” Sebastian sneered. “Or I’ll tell Papa you’re picking on Eva again.”

Sebastian’s fingers tightened around my arms. “Then you can wait and see how long Papa locks you in the basement this time.”