Chapter 2: Accepting Fate.
Author: Diane Red
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-29 19:42:56

Standing in the dimly lit hallway, he felt the weight of his new reality pressing down on him. He was no longer just Harry Winstone, the boy who grew up in a small flat with a loving foster mother. He was now the heir to the Winstone family, with all the responsibilities and challenges that came with it.

And he was completely alone.

“Let’s go inside,” Richard said quietly. “You’re not alone in this.”

But as Harry looked at his reflection in the glass doors, he couldn’t shake the feeling that everything had changed, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready for what lay ahead.

, just like that. He had to know why. He needed answers.

When he reached her building, his steps slowed. The sight that greeted him made his blood run cold. Amelia was standing outside, smiling, with her arms wrapped around another man—someone he didn’t recognize. The man, Adam Morland, was impeccably dressed, his designer suit screaming money and privilege. He radiated arrogance, his smug grin only adding to Harry's growing dread.

“Amelia?” Harry called, his voice breaking slightly. He was already regretting coming here.

Amelia glanced up, her smile fading into an expression of disdain. "Oh, Harry," she said coolly, stepping away from Adam as if Harry’s presence somehow embarrassed her. “What are you doing here?”

Harry swallowed hard, his heart pounding. “I came to talk. You broke up with me over the phone, Amelia. After everything we’ve been through, you owe me an explanation. Who is this?”

Adam chuckled, stepping forward. “I’m Adam Morland, son of the CEO of Cloud Logistics. I think it’s pretty obvious why she’s with me now,” he said, his tone dripping with superiority. “Amelia deserves better than... well, someone like you.”

“Better?” Harry’s voice cracked. “Amelia, is that what this is about? Money?”

Amelia rolled her eyes, her tone sharp. “It’s not just about the money, Harry. It’s about everything. Look at you. You can barely take care of yourself, and now your mother’s illness is just dragging you down. I don’t want to spend my life with someone who can’t provide for me.”

Harry’s chest tightened. “I thought you loved me,” he said softly, almost pleading. “I thought we were building something together.”

“Love doesn’t pay the bills, Harry,” Amelia snapped, folding her arms. “Adam can give me the life I deserve. He’s successful, wealthy, and he can actually take care of me.”

Harry’s gaze shifted from Amelia to Adam, then back to Amelia. “And that’s all that matters to you? His money?”

In response, Amelia wrapped her arms around Adam’s neck and kissed him—deeply, passionately. Something she had never done with Harry, not even in private. Harry’s stomach churned as he watched, his mind reeling with disbelief. How could she do this so easily? Was it all just a lie?

When she pulled away, Amelia smirked at Harry. “I’ve upgraded,” she said coldly.

Harry took a step back, his heart breaking. “Were you cheating on me?” he asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Does it matter?” she replied dismissively. “I’ve moved on. You should too.”

Adam, still holding Amelia, couldn’t resist adding fuel to the fire. “Listen, mate, it’s simple. You’re broke, and I’m not. Amelia deserves someone who can give her everything she wants. That’s me, not you. Honestly, she was probably doing you a favor by ending it now.”

Harry’s fists clenched at his sides, the humiliation unbearable. “Stay out of this, Adam,” he said through gritted teeth.

Adam laughed mockingly. “What are you going to do? Hit me? Let’s be honest, Harry. you wiped off the face of the earth. You’d be dead by morning if you crossed me.”

Amelia, leaning against Adam, smiled cruelly. “You heard him, Harry. If you don’t kneel and apologise, things could get really bad for you and your mother.”

Harry’s jaw tightened as he stared at the two of them. He felt like he was drowning in betrayal, but instead of sinking further, something inside him snapped. Without a word, he r seeeached into his wallet and pulled out a photo—the one of him and Amelia, taken at the start of their relationship when things had felt so perfect. For a brief moment, he stared at it, a wave of sadness washing over him.

Then, with a sudden, firm decision, he pulled a lighter from his pocket, flicked it on, and set the corner of the picture alight.

“Harry, what the hell are you doing?” Adam scoffed, stepping forward. “Are you crazy?”

Amelia’s eyes widened as the flames slowly consumed the picture. “What—what is wrong with you?” she demanded, her voice shaking slightly.

Harry didn’t answer. He just watched as the flames engulfed the image of their former selves, the ashes falling to the ground. With each passing second, he felt something heavy lift from his chest, as if the chains that had held him to her were finally breaking.

Adam, confused and enraged, shoved Harry’s shoulder. “You think burning a picture is going to change anything, you pathetic—”

But Harry cut him off, stepping forward, his voice low and steady. “I’m done. You don’t get to hurt me anymore.”

The fire in Harry’s eyes silenced Adam. For the first time, he saw something in Harry that made him pause—a strength and resolve he hadn’t expected.

“I’m not going to apologise. I’m not going to kneel. And you know what?” Harry said, his voice calm but firm. “You can keep your money, your threats, and your empty life. I don’t need any of it.”

Adam sneered, but there was an edge of uncertainty in his voice. “You think you’re something special now?”

Harry smiled faintly, a quiet confidence settling over him. “No. But I know my worth. And one day, you’ll see it too.”

Amelia stared at him, a flicker of doubt crossing her face for the briefest moment. But then she hardened again, clinging tighter to Adam.

“Let’s go, Adam,” she said coldly, turning her back on Harry.

As they walked away, Harry stood tall, watching them leave. The pain was still there, but it wasn’t unbearable anymore. The broken man who had come looking for answers had disappeared, replaced by someone who understood that not all battles were worth fighting. Some battles were simply won by letting go.

With a deep breath, Harry turned and walked in the opposite direction. For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t running after something or someone.

He was finally walking his own path.

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    Harry Winstone paced the cold hospital corridor, the words of the doctor still ringing in his ears. “Mr. Winstone, I’m afraid your foster mother’s condition has worsened. We need to operate immediately. The cost is three hundred thousand pounds, and we need it by five this evening,” the doctor had said, his tone gentle yet firm. Harry felt the ground slip from beneath his feet. “Three hundred thousand pounds?” he repeated, his voice hollow. “How am I supposed to get that much money in a few hours?” “I understand it’s a lot to ask, but we don’t have much time. Without the operation, she won’t make it through the night,” the doctor explained, his eyes filled with sympathy before he walked away. Harry clenched his fists, trying to steady himself. He turned and made his way to Celia’s ward, his heart heavy with fear and desperation. Pushing open the door, he saw her lying motionless on the bed, her once vibrant face now pale and frail. “Hey, Mum,” he whispered, sitting beside her an