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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felt like it was studying me, examining the life I had led.

taken.

thick with emotion. “Jeffrey, don’t worry. F’ll take care of the kids and Carter.” I wanted to believe

a small tribute to Jeffrey’s wife, remembering her fondness for sweets. It was a

a 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

a bustling night market, laughing as she held

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

drifted past every Bolton descendant, as if

for a moment before it moved on,

returned to the colorful butterfly,

wings before it landed on

to bring into the world, the one she

dark truth about the twins. The old hag had plotted

years of age, the

shattered too. He was like a puppet,

much like a young Jeffrey. The old hag had kept him close, as if he were some kind of rare treasure, a

had a twisted, cruel plan to bear a

along, we thought her obsession was with wealth and legacy. But the truth was far darker.

They were a perfect match–both from respected families, destined to marry, or so it

different path. He had fallen for a poor flower seller, and Commander’s

the marriage would make Jeffrey see her as the one he needed to

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it did was prove that he only saw her as a sister. She had given everything–her time, her heart, her life–for a love that was

married the Commander. But that marked her

the flower seller, her heart broke a little more.

only deepened, while her own life with

with him, the colder her heart became. Her bitterness grew like an unforgiving vine, twisting and pulling her further away from the

of couples in love that hurt

as he whispered soft words of affection. The tenderness between them pierced Brynn like an

was everything she had longed for, everything she could never

to please Commander. She had

pregnant and seeking blessings. My grandmother’s eyes darkened with jealousy as she watched Mrs. Carlyn Senior. “She must be about to give birth,” she

consumed by the jealousy she had carried

Mrs. Carlyn Senior, he did not

kindness, something he hadn’t found in his own life. He grew to care for her, and he had plans about taking her in as

the thought of Commander loving another woman, especially one so kind. In a fit of rage, she set

apart the Carlyns‘ happiness, leaving them broken and

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

my grandfather down a path he would have never chosen, introducing him to other women, hoping to break his faith

Carlyns‘ revenge. My grandfather’s health had already begun to fail. The Carlyns knew exactly how to finish

the one person Brynn hated above all else was Mrs. Bolton–the woman whom Jeffrey

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