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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it was studying me, examining the life I had

taken.

my throat, my voice thick with emotion. “Jeffrey, don’t worry. F’ll take care of the kids and

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

flitted from place to place, never pausing for long. It danced with the breeze, as if

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.

of youth and joy, standing beside a tall man who spoke softly, offering

butterfly drifted past every Bolton descendant, as

a moment before it moved on, one last farewell

to the colorful butterfly,

again, fluttering its wings before

she had fought to bring into the world, the one she had given

words, I learned the dark truth about the twins. The old hag had plotted to

were a mere eight years of age, the sister had died

his body broken, his legs fractured, his spirit shattered too. He was like a puppet, moving only because his strings hadn’t snapped

like a young Jeffrey. The old hag had kept him close, as

a twisted, cruel plan to bear

was with wealth and legacy. But the truth was far

a perfect match–both from respected families,

Jeffrey’s heart had chosen a different path. He had fallen for a poor flower

the marriage would make Jeffrey see her

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only saw her as a sister. She had given everything–her time, her heart, her life–for a love

that marked her descent into madness, into

the flower seller, her heart broke a little

affection for the woman only deepened, while her own life with Commander slipped further

colder her heart became. Her bitterness grew like an unforgiving vine,

of couples in love that hurt

temple, Jeffrey with his pregnant wife, his arm around her as he whispered soft words of affection. The tenderness between them pierced Brynn like an

everything she had longed for,

please Commander. She had her eyes

watched Mrs. Carlyn Senior. “She must be about to give birth,” she murmured to the servant, her voice

on her words to my grandmother. The hag, consumed by the jealousy she had carried for years,

Senior,

her beauty. But it wasn’t just that–he admired her 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 a concubine, but fearing his wife’s wrath, he hid

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 bed, breaking her both physically and emotionally. With that, she crushed any hope the Commander

the Carlyns‘ happiness, leaving them

family, my 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

would have never chosen, introducing him to

grandfather’s health had already begun to fail. The Carlyns knew exactly how to finish him off–by introducing a few more women and some

the one person Brynn hated above all else was Mrs. Bolton–the woman whom Jeffrey had fiercely protected, the woman who had captured his heart and never let

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