Chapter 199: Unspoken Truths
Galatea sat silently in the car, her thoughts racing. She had decided she would finally tell Alaric everything—the truth she had kept hidden for so long—but the words seemed stuck in her throat. She wasn’t sure where to begin or how he would react.
She didn’t even notice when Alaric had parked the car beside her. It wasn’t until he rolled down the window and spoke that she snapped out of her thoughts.
“Get in.”
Startled, Galatea quickly climbed into the car, her heart pounding in her chest. She stole a glance at Alaric, whose face was unusually grim. The tension between them was palpable.
“Did you have another fight with your mom?” Alaric asked, his tone weary. The question had become almost routine, but it stung every time.
Galatea’s eyes lowered, guilt gnawing at her. She knew it was all her fault—her presence in Alaric’s life had caused nothing but trouble between him and his mother. She had hoped her background, her education, even her patience, would have been enough to gain Marigold’s approval. But it never was.
“No,” she replied softly, though the answer felt empty. “I just… I don’t know what to do anymore.”
Alaric noticed her dejection, and his expression softened. “What’s wrong? You look so down.”
Without thinking, he reached over and gently pinched her cheek, trying to lighten the mood.
“Are you torn between me and your mom?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.
Galatea met his eyes, a flicker of hesitation in her gaze. “Why? Are you thinking of leaving me to make it easier for me?”
Alaric’s eyes widened, his voice urgent. “No. I’ve fought too hard for us to be together for that to happen. I won’t let you compromise. We’ll be fine. It’ll just be the two of us living our lives. What does her opposition even matter? We don’t need to live with her, right?”
Galatea looked at him, her heart aching at his words. He truly cared, but the weight of everything pressing on her made it hard to feel reassured.
“Alaric,” she whispered, her voice trembling. She took a deep breath, bracing herself. “I need to tell you something.”
Alaric’s eyes softened with curiosity as he turned to face her fully. “What is it?”
Her throat tightened, and she swallowed hard before speaking again. “You might not believe me, but everything I’m about to say is true.”
Alaric raised an eyebrow but said nothing, silently urging her to continue.
“I don’t know who Harry and Elisa’s father is,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.
Alaric nodded, his expression calm. “I believe you. And then?”
Galatea blinked in surprise at his lack of reaction. Wasn’t he even a little shocked?
She gathered her thoughts and continued, “After the Storm family went bankrupt, I was drowning in debt. Desperate… And then a woman named Marigold found me. She told me her son had been in a coma for two years. She said that a wizard told her to find a woman to marry him and have a child—only then might he wake up.”
Alaric’s eyes widened in realization, but he remained silent, waiting for her to continue.
“I agreed, out of desperation,” Galatea went on, her voice shaking. “I married him. Then I had artificial insemination and got pregnant. That’s how Harry and Elisa were born.”
Alaric’s brow furrowed in confusion. “So you never met him? You don’t even know what he looks like?”
Galatea shook her head, her voice barely audible. “No, I don’t. Marigold never told me his name. She wouldn’t let me see him.”
“Then how did you get married?” Alaric asked, his confusion deepening.
“I don’t know,” Galatea replied, her face pale. “Marigold handled everything. She said her son’s situation was special, so they used special means to get married. But she assured me it was all legal.”
Alaric’s eyes narrowed. “So, you never saw a marriage agreement?”
“No,” she answered, her voice tight with tension.
“Not even a hint of who your husband is?” Alaric pressed, his voice taking on a note of disbelief.
Galatea could only nod, feeling as though the entire situation was absurd. “It sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it? But it’s true.”
Alaric smiled softly, his voice filled with a strange amusement. “Of course, I believe you.”
She blinked, taken aback by his unwavering trust. “You… believe me?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Alaric chuckled, though his expression was still a bit grim. “I can’t believe someone as educated as you would marry so recklessly—have children without even knowing who the father is. Were you out of your mind?”
Galatea felt the sting of his words, but she didn’t take offense. She understood the disbelief in his voice. It was hard to imagine anyone making such decisions, especially someone as thoughtful as her.
Alaric paused, his mind racing as he pieced everything together. “Marigold had planned all of this from the beginning. She didn’t care about you. She wanted a child, and you were just the means to an end. If it weren’t for the DNA results…”
Galatea’s heart sank. She couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge just how true those words were.
“But that’s in the past,” Alaric said, squeezing her hand reassuringly. “I’m here now, and I won’t let you suffer anymore.”
She met his gaze, her lips trembling. “But… there’s more.”
Alaric’s eyes darkened slightly. “What more?”
Galatea’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I recently got in touch with Marigold again. She told me… her son isn’t dead.”
Alaric blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Her son isn’t dead?” He tried to make sense of what she was saying. “Did you think he was dead?”
Galatea nodded. “Yes. When I married him, he’d been in a coma for two years. After I gave birth, he was still in a coma. That’s three years. The chances of someone waking up after that long… I thought he was dead. But now, it seems… he’s not.”
Her voice faltered, and Alaric could hear the mixed emotions in her words. Should I be disappointed? Galatea wondered, but she didn’t voice it. It felt like a strange twist of fate.
Alaric processed this for a moment before asking, “What kind of person do you think her son is?”
Galatea shrugged, her expression guarded. “I don’t know. I’ve never met him. But given how unreasonable his mother is, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s not much better.”
Alaric’s lips twitched in amusement, though his eyes remained thoughtful. “Yeah, maybe.”
The car slowed, and Galatea was about to ask him something else when Alaric suddenly pulled over. The car came to a stop.
“We’re here,” he said, his voice low and calm. “Get out.”
Galatea blinked, momentarily lost in her thoughts. Her revelation had been heavy, but Alaric’s response had been… different than she expected. She couldn’t quite place it, but something had shifted.
She opened the door and stepped out, her heart still pounding from the conversation. What would happen next?