Eleanore POV:
The crisp New England air bit at my cheeks as I began the ascent. The ancient stone path leading to the secluded temple felt like a pilgrimage. My heart, still raw from recent wounds, yearned for a quiet solace, a strength I hadn't known I possessed. I wasn't just walking; I was leaving behind every ghost of my past.
I carried a small, unadorned wooden plaque. In the quiet solitude of my room before leaving, I had carefully carved a name into it: Kayson Knight. The man I was meant to marry, the man who had been in a coma for five years, the man I was now truly going to marry. My prayer was simple, yet profound. I prayed for his healing, for his eventual peace, and for the strength to honor the commitment my family had so carelessly dismissed. I would fulfill my end of the bargain, not for them, but for myself, and for the silent promise made between two families, long ago.
With each step, I chanted his name, focusing on the rhythm of my breath, pushing away the lingering pain of betrayal. My knees ached, my muscles burned, but I continued, driven by a fierce resolve. This was my penance, my offering, my new beginning.
Halfway up the mountain, a familiar chatter broke the silence. My heart clenched. My parents, Colbert, and Addison. Josie, of course, was with them, her face a picture of serene devotion, though her designer hiking gear seemed to mock the spiritual setting. My mother, looking stressed, dabbed at her forehead with a silk handkerchief. My father, his usual bluster replaced by a forced solemnity, walked grimly.
Josie, spotting me, immediately brightened, a performance for her captive audience. "Oh, Eleanore! Sister, look! We're here too! Mom and Dad said we should pray for... for clarity, after all the recent... misunderstandings." Her voice was sweet, but her eyes held a triumphant glint. "They've been so worried about everything. They even decided to walk the whole way up, just like you!" She pointed to my mother, who was now visibly panting.
I didn't break my rhythm. My eyes remained fixed on the path ahead, my lips silently forming Kayson' s name. Kayson. Kayson. Kayson.
"Eleanore, darling, are you all right?" My mother's voice, laced with a familiar whine, reached me. "You look exhausted. What are you even doing up here? All this... devotion. It's not like you."
Colbert stepped in front of me, blocking my path. "El, come on. This is ridiculous. For whom are you doing all this? It's just a mountain. You're going to hurt yourself. Let's go down. The family is worried."
"Worried?" I finally stopped, my chest heaving. My voice was hoarse. I looked at Colbert, then at my parents, then at Addison, who looked away. "You're worried now? After everything?" I turned my gaze to Josie, a silent accusation. My parents shifted uncomfortably.
My father, ever the one for grand pronouncements, stepped forward. "Eleanore, this is precisely why we're here. We are trying to make things right. Josie has been so upset, so distressed. We need to focus on what matters. Her well-being is paramount right now."
My ears, accustomed to these empty words, barely registered them. I remembered my father, years ago, holding my hand, promising me a lifetime of protection. My little girl, my precious Eleanore, you will always be my first priority. The memory was a cruel joke.
A single tear, born of exhaustion and profound disappointment, tracked a path down my dusty cheek. "This," I said, my voice rising, "is what matters. My commitment. My future. The man I am going to marry." I pushed past Colbert, ignoring his shocked expression. "This is for him."
They stood there, momentarily stunned by my uncharacteristic defiance. But then, as if spurred by some unseen force, they began to follow, their footsteps heavier, their expressions a mix of confusion and indignation.
The final ascent was brutal. My limbs screamed in protest, but I pushed through, my resolve burning brighter than any pain. Finally, I reached the small, ancient shrine at the summit. I knelt, my body trembling, and placed the wooden plaque carefully among hundreds of others.
My parents, huffing and puffing, finally arrived, followed by Colbert, Addison, and a pristine Josie. My mother, catching her breath, looked at the plaque. Her eyes narrowed. "Eleanore, what is...?"
My father's face went white. He saw the name. Kayson Knight.
"What is this?" he bellowed, his voice echoing across the silent mountain. He grabbed the plaque, his face contorted in a mask of fury. "You did all this... for him? For that comatose man? Unbelievable! You're disgracing this family! This is an insult! You should be praying for us, for our family, for our reputation!"
Colbert, his own face pale, stepped forward. "El, this is madness. Why would you... why would you choose him over us? Over Addison?"
Addison, his jaw clenched, finally spoke. "She's always been dramatic. Always wanted to be the center of attention. Even now, trying to make us feel bad by sacrificing herself for a stranger."
Their faces twisted, not with regret for what they'd done to me, but with fury that my sacrifice wasn't for them.