Even after Her Death by Rita Bond

Chapter 526 Goodbye

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We sent Jeffrey off, the final step of a long journey. Everything had been planned by him, down to the smallest detail–his burial beside his first wife.

It wasn’t in the Bolton family plot, but in a quiet valley, where the air was crisp and the wildflowers bloomed in abundance.

There were no speeches, no grand ceremony. It was just us, the immediate family, standing in silent respect as he was laid to rest.

Carter spoke first, breaking the stillness. “He always said we didn’t need to visit on holidays. He owed her too much. She spent her life tied down, trapped by the Bolton name. She never knew a moment of peace. But now, in death, he can finally make it up to her. He has all the time in the world to share with her, to explore the world they never had.”

A man who had spent his whole life bound by duty–who would’ve guessed that in the end, he’d choose to let go?

Whentherich are buried, it’salways a grandaffair–thebesttime, thebestplace, theperfectconditionsforprosperityandfamilylegacy. Peopleconsultexperts, checkthestars,

andensurethateverythingisjustright.

But Jeffrey? He didn’t care about any of that.

He spent his years working to preserve the Bolton legacy. But on the day he chose to die, he was free.

Carter wiped away the tear at my cheek. “Dad said not to cry, this isn’t an end. It’s a new beginning.”

I nodded, unsure of what to say.

“It’s beautiful here,” Carter continued. “The birds, the flowers… He won’t be alone.”

“Yeah.”

It didn’t feel like a funeral. It felt more like a quiet goodbye.

We set the tribute and the wreaths, and that was all.

Everett and Everly had been still, calm in their stroller. But then, they started laughing.

Their tiny hands reached up, swiping at the air, their eyes focused on something only they could see.

Above them, two butterflies danced–one pure white, the other bright with color.

Maybe they didn’t see

tterflies at all.

The white one landed gently on Carter’s shoulder, while the colorful one fluttered in front of me.

Suddenly, I remembered Jeffrey’s words. “Your mother–in–law always had a love for beauty. Even if she turned into a butterfly, she’d still be the most beautiful one in the garden.”

The white butterfly gently landed on Carter’s shoulder, as if a soft hand had rested there, offering a quiet blessing. It seemed to whisper, “The Boltons are yours now“, a weight passing from one pair of hands to

another.

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a deliberate grace. It felt like it was studying me, examining the life I had led. Jeffrey must

taken.

lump in my throat, my voice thick with emotion. “Jeffrey, don’t worry. F’ll take care of the kids and Carter.” I wanted to believe it myself, but the weight of his absence was

a moment. Carter had prepared it as a small tribute to Jeffrey’s wife, remembering her fondness for sweets. It was a simple, quiet gesture, but somehow,

child darting around, the butterfly flitted from place to place, never pausing for long. It danced with the breeze, as if the world were a playground to explore, never bound

bloomed–a young girl, no older than 20, carefree and full of life. She ran through a bustling night market, laughing as she held candied apple in one hand and an ice cream cone in the other. Milkshake and

joy, standing beside a tall man who spoke softly, offering wisdom in gentle tones, guiding her forward, and protecting her from

Bolton descendant, as if saying its goodbyes.

moved on, one last farewell

colorful butterfly, their reunion quiet but full of

paused again, fluttering its wings before it

This was the child she had fought to bring into

the dark truth about the twins. The old hag had plotted to use them as weapons in her vengeance against

mere eight years of age, the sister had died

body broken, his legs fractured, his spirit shattered too. He was like a puppet, moving only because his

close, as if he

a twisted, cruel plan to bear a child from the Bolton bloodline.

we thought her obsession was with wealth and legacy.

a perfect match–both from respected families, destined to marry, or so it seemed.

a poor flower seller, and Commander’s eyes

thought that agreeing to the marriage would make Jeffrey see her as the one

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force him into making a decision, but all it did was prove that he only saw her as a sister. She had given everything–her time, her heart, her life–for a

that marked her descent into madness,

with the flower seller, her heart broke a

the woman only deepened, while her

bitterness grew like an unforgiving vine, twisting and pulling her further away from the person she

sight of couples in love that hurt the most–couples like

seen them at the temple, Jeffrey with his pregnant wife, his arm around her as he whispered soft words of affection. The tenderness between

longed for, everything she

Commander. She had her eyes set on Mrs. Carlyn Senior

she watched Mrs. Carlyn Senior. “She must be about to give birth,”

consumed by the jealousy she had carried for

Carlyn Senior, he did not hesitate.

for her, and he had plans about taking her in as a concubine, but fearing his wife’s wrath, he hid Mrs.

her. She couldn’t stand the thought of Commander loving another woman, especially one so kind. In a fit of rage, she set out to destroy Mrs. Carlyn. She sent her into another man’s

the Carlyns‘ happiness, leaving them

grandfather was a man too weak to stand on his own, easily swayed by those around him. My grandmother, though strong and determined, had no illusions about love. They cared for each other, but there was a burden between them that neither

a path he would have never chosen, introducing him

already begun to fail. The Carlyns knew exactly how to

above all else was Mrs. Bolton–the woman whom Jeffrey had fiercely protected, the woman who had

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