Secretly Married for 4 Years, He Regrets to Tears After the Divorce

Chapter 257: Chapter 257: A Woman Must Live for Herself

Wren Sutton’s words came out in a torrent, a flash flood that shattered the dam she had so painstakingly built around herself.

It was the first time she had ever been so clear, so direct. Without embellishment or excuses, she had dissected her own heart, laying bare the wounds that had never healed. She exposed her deepest fears, her struggles, her confusion, her vulnerability, and the almost desperate self-preservation that defined her.

After saying all this, Wren Sutton seemed drained of all strength. Her body swayed, her shoulders slumped, and she sank into the soft cushions of the sofa.

She stared at her mother, her eyes, washed clean by countless tears, were vacant yet held a faint, pleading glimmer.

Mrs. Sutton had long since been moved to tears.

Her daughter’s every word was a knife twisting in her heart.

She could imagine the despair her daughter had endured, but she could never truly comprehend its bone-chilling depths.

Mrs. Sutton didn’t rush to speak, careful not to interrupt her daughter’s heart-wrenching catharsis with empty platitudes.

She simply held her daughter’s still-trembling hand, her grip firm and reassuring.

Time slipped by, marked only by their clasped hands and silent tears.

When Wren’s violent emotions had subsided and her breathing was no longer so ragged, Mrs. Sutton used her other hand to pull a few soft tissues from the coffee table. As if tending to an infant, she gently wiped away the tear stains that marred her daughter’s face.

"Wren, I didn’t protect you. I let you suffer so much injustice and pain. I am so sorry."

Wren shook her head. "Mom, don’t say that. What happened between Adrian Lancaster and me has nothing to do with you. You have nothing to be sorry for."

"I was the one who was too naive. I thought marriage was simple, that as long as you were sincere with each other, things would turn out well."

Her heart aching for her daughter, Mrs. Sutton’s voice softened as she offered comfort.

"I’m not going to tell you to just forget the pain. That was your path to walk, your burden to bear. Those are real scars on your heart. No one can erase them, and no one has the right to glibly tell you to just ’get over it.’"

Mrs. Sutton’s gaze grew distant and resolute. Her voice was steady, imbued with the clarity and wisdom of one who has weathered life’s storms and seen the full spectrum of human nature.

"But, my child, I have to tell you—life isn’t a videotape. You can’t pause it on the most painful frame, and you can’t rewind it and start over."

"You have to keep walking forward, one step at a time. You can’t just stand still because you’re afraid of the rocks, thorns, and pits in the road. You can’t just close your eyes, cover your ears, and retreat to the safety of your starting point, pretending none of those obstacles exist."

"You can’t do that, Wren. Time won’t stop for you. The children are growing up, and your life is still moving forward."

Mrs. Sutton paused, giving her daughter a moment to collect herself and absorb what she was saying.

After a moment of silence, she cut to the heart of the matter. "Let me ask you this. Putting aside all the past hurt... when you look at Adrian Lancaster now, when you see him trying so hard to change and earn your forgiveness, do you really feel nothing? Not even the slightest flicker?"

At these words, Wren’s eyelashes fluttered violently, like the wings of a startled butterfly.

She pressed her pale lips together, her gaze drifting away. It swept over her children’s sleeping faces, then over the vibrant green plant on the coffee table.

She gave no answer, but the brief silence and the flicker of conflict and hesitation in her eyes were an unspoken admission.

Mrs. Sutton saw the subtle shift in her daughter’s expression. She knew Wren wasn’t made of stone; the tightly sealed door to her heart had at least a tiny crack.

She continued, her voice still unhurried, still filled with a comforting strength and worldly wisdom. "Wren, I’m not asking you to forgive Adrian Lancaster immediately, to happily rush back into his arms. That would be unfair to you. It’s not realistic, and it wouldn’t be a true reconciliation."

"The cracks are there. The scars are there. No one can pretend they don’t exist, not even Adrian Lancaster himself."

Mrs. Sutton squeezed her daughter’s hand, trying to impart her own strength.

"What I think is... maybe you can try to look at the present and the future differently. It doesn’t have to be a choice between a passionate embrace and turning your back for good."

"Instead, take a step back. Stand somewhere you feel safe, and just... watch. Watch him calmly, carefully, and with a critical eye."

"Watch Adrian Lancaster’s changes. See if his kindness toward you is just an inconsistent performance born of guilt, or if it’s a sustained, sincere effort to atone."

"See if he truly understands, from the bottom of his heart, what a family means, what a husband’s responsibility is, and the weight a father must carry."

"This process will give you, him, and this family a period of observation and healing."

"You don’t have to give him all your trust at once; that would be too risky. You just need to protect your own heart. Then, open your eyes, open your ears, and use your head and your heart to observe, to feel, and to judge."

"Use time, and use his actions—day in and day out—to test his promises and his commitment to change."

As she said this, Mrs. Sutton released one of Wren’s hands and gently stroked the top of her daughter’s soft, slightly disheveled hair. Her eyes filled with boundless compassion, but also with the fierce resolve of a she-wolf protecting her cub.

"If, after watching for a long time, you find that Adrian Lancaster is just putting on a show, that deep down he’s still the same man... or if your heart, your gut, tells you in no uncertain terms that this is a chasm you can never cross, that even getting close makes it too painful to breathe..."

"Then, Wren, I won’t say another word to persuade you. I will be your staunchest supporter. This home will always be your safe harbor. All I hope is that my daughter, whatever decision you make, makes it by following your own truest, most clear-headed feelings."

"It shouldn’t be a reluctant compromise for the children’s sake, or a sacrifice made to save face for us old folks, and it certainly shouldn’t be a decision held hostage by fear of the past or anxiety about the future."

"You need to live for yourself, Wren. You must be yourself first. Only then can you be Owen and Nina’s mother, our daughter, or Adrian Lancaster’s wife. Do you understand what I mean?"