Page 109 of Stolen By the Duke of Ice
Rhys, sensing that they wanted time alone, excused himself and left the three ladies to themselves.
“Dahlia, dear.”
She told them everything that happened. Her heart broke every time she had to mention Peter’s name.
Her friends offered her comfort; they spoke of healing and of time. They meant well, but they could not help her. And Dahlia believed that they knew that as well. But seeing them, having them near her, gave her some form of strength. Because of them, she knew that there were people in this world who truly loved her.
When they had left, Dahlia kept to her rooms. She was not yet ready to be in her parents’ company.
Her parents had been most surprised to see her on the night of her arrival.
Dahlia had used the speech she had prepared, and it had seemed to work at the time. But she knew that it would only be a matter of time before they would need more details.
She would tell them the truth then as well.
“It is self-preservation. I love him, but he does not have any love for me. So, I must simply take care of myself. That is all.” Saying the words out loud was like salt in a wound.
You will never understand, mother, father. You, with your unwavering, dedicated love, will never understand that I must find love within myself, for no one has given me their love.
And so, find love she must.
Without planning to, Dahlia went to her parents. She searched for them until she found them talking quietly in her mother’s chambers.
They are talking about me still.
“I love you both.”
“Dahlia, dear?” Teresa walked to her in concern.
“And I know that, as your daughter, you love me as well.”
“Yes, of course, we do.” Andrew said.
“But you have also hurt me deeply.”
“What are you saying?”
“As a child, I was often alone; you left me alone. You provided for me, yes; you gave me everything I needed and more. Everything but your presence.”
“Oh, Dahlia.” Her mother tried to hold her hand, but Dahlia was not finished. She moved away.
“I never felt that I was important to you; I never felt that you truly wanted me. There were days when I thought you had notreally wanted a daughter, but since I was born, you might as well just raise me.
“No, my dear, no, that is not true.”
“Papa, please allow me to finish.”
“I often asked myself if I was more beautiful, if I was more accomplished, would you have loved me more? It made me feel inadequate; perhaps it was my fault, my deficiencies made me unlovable.”
Dahlia could see her mother begin to cry; it took all of her self-control not to appease her. She had to stand her ground.
“Do you know that every time you went away, every time you brought me back a present, I would imagine—hope for the day when you would finally take me with you.” Dahlia paused at the lump in her throat. “I would have exchanged every toy, every book, everything I owned for you to take me where you went, to show me the things that I had never seen before. I envied thegiftsyou brought me, for they had gone with you.”
Teresa was openly crying now; Andrew supported her form.
Dahlia smiled bravely.
“But I have learned, Mama, Papa, that I can love myself, too. I can put myself first as well. That if I am to give my love away, I must firsthavelove to give away.”
