Chapter 779: You. Are. Not.
Catrin’s face hardened. Her fingers curled into fists at her sides as she glared at Margaret.
"Watch me carefully, Margaret. I am not someone you can stop so casually. I am —"
"The daughter who walked away shamelessly without turning back to glance at her dying mother." Margaret cut in and finished her words without hesitation. "Don’t worry, I have observed you enough to know exactly who you are. But now, you need to watch and understand that you can’t be a part of Madam’s final moments. Because you don’t deserve to be a part of it."
Her words echoed through the hall. Whispers rippled among the guests. Everyone knew that Brenda and Catrin had a strained relationship, far from what a mother and daughter should share. But still, none of them expected Catrin to be so heartless.
"How could she do that?" someone asked in a disdainful tone. "Mrs. Davies was her mother. Did she not at all feel the loss of losing her?"
"Oh, that’s so cruel," another one murmured. "Having your own daughter walk away when all you need is for her to stay by your side ..."
"Given what Ms. Marie said, it seems Catrin was here when Mrs. Davies was taking her last breath," another one added. "And even then, she didn’t spare her any affection. That’s so inhumane."
"But hasn’t she always been like that?" a guest chimed in. "In every event we have attended, she has only ever tried to dominate and control everyone around her. That is what pushed her daughter away, her husband too. Why would her mother be any different?"
The whispers were low, but they were still loud enough to reach Catrin. The more Catrin heard them, the harder her expression became.
Staring at Margaret, she sneered, "You still can’t force me out of here, Margaret. Don’t forget your position." And with that, she took a step forward to walk past her.
However, just as she was about to step past, Margaret’s hands shot out, blocking her path once more. "Don’t force me, Ms. Davies. I have already conveyed Madam’s last wish. I hope that you respect it ... for the last time."
Catrin’s jaw tightened. She glared at Margaret, but Margaret’s gaze didn’t waver.
"Please, Ms. Davies," Margaret said. Though her words were polite, her tone was steely. "For the last time, I am asking you —leave."
Catrin didn’t carry any affection for Brenda. She wasn’t desperate to be part of her final moments. But she wasn’t willing to leave, either —not yet. She was here for another reason. For Arwen. She didn’t want to lose the chance to make things right, in her own way.
Her eyes scanned the room until they landed on Arwen, standing near the casket in Idri’s arms. For a fleeting moment, Catrin’s expression softened as she called out,
"Arwen, darling, will you also not say anything?" her tone, for once, lacked its usual control and dominance. "I am your mother, and her daughter. Are you also going to stand on the side of others and let them chase me out of here? I deserve to be here as much as you."
Arwen didn’t respond immediately. She just let her gaze be fixed on Catrin and stood. It was hard to tell what was going on in her mind.
"Arwen, I —"
"Did you come to meet Granna today?" Arwen interrupted, her voice cutting through the tension.
Catrin looked at her, and her brows drew in a furrow. "Yes, I did. Can’t I come and visit her when she was sick? For God’s sake, Arwen, I am her daughter, like you are mine."
"We aren’t the same," Arwen refuted that almost immediately as though that mere comparison repulsed her. "We can never stand on the same scale. So, don’t even try."
"Arwen —"
Before Catrin could even start, Arwen raised her hand to silence her. "Just tell me if Aunt Margaret is telling the truth?" Her gaze flicked to Margaret for a brief second before returning to Catrin again. "Did you walk away while Granna was breathing her last breaths?"
Catrin’s brows furrowed. She didn’t like the way it sounded. "Arwen, don’t act like you don’t know the dynamic I shared with your grandmother. We weren’t very close to begin with, and you know I can’t fake emotions that I don’t carry. So, what if I walked away, ignoring her misery. She has never been a mother to me, so why should I care?"
Arwen looked at her incredulously. She knew her Catrin was insensitive —but she never knew to this extent.
Even Idris frowned when he heard her. His expression darkened. "Catrin, it’s not about faking," he said, his voice carrying quiet contempt. "It’s the basic humanity. Are you even not capable of that?"
"Idris, don’t villainize me like that," Catrin hissed, her frown getting deeper. "That lady was the reason for all the wrongs that happened in my life. From the very beginning. She doesn’t deserve even a fraction of my affection. I —"
"And you don’t deserve to be here," Arwen snapped before Catrin could complete. Her voice rose with a sharp pitch that, for a moment, stunned everyone present there.
Aiden at once stepped to her side, reaching to hold her trembling hand that curled into a fist. It was an attempt to ground her, calm her. But he knew this wouldn’t be enough. The way her face has grown red, he could tell she was on the brink of losing her calm ... entirely.
"Leave right now!" Arwen said again, pointing her finger towards the exit. Her eyes were sharp and piercing. "You don’t deserve to be here even for a second. So, leave."
"Arwen!" Catrin hissed, offended by her raised voice. "I am your mother and you can’t —"
"You. Are. Not." Arwen’s voice rang with finality. "You never were. Not when I craved for it, and neither when I let go. You were never able to be the daughter to your mother; how could I even expect you to be a mother? My expectations have been wrong from the beginning. And I got to understand it now ... finally."