Sarah stared at the check book, her heart aching. She thought of Damien, his kindness, his unwavering support. She thought of the painting she had given him, the symbol of their connection, their shared journey. She thought of the music box, the kiss at the hospital. Was it just her imagination? Was she misled by the man she fell in love with, or was his affection merely an act of kindness? Was he ever going to tell her about the engagement, the marriage? She looked back at Don Sterling, her eyes filled with quiet dignity.
"There's no amount of money," she said, her voice firm, "that could buy… my feelings for Damien. You'd better put that check book away, Mr. Sterling."
Don's hand froze, the pen hovering over the check book. He had expected tears, pleas, bargaining. He had expected her to name a price, no matter how large, and he was ready to pay it. He hadn't expected this defiance.
"We are just two strangers bound by tragic circumstances," Sarah continued, her voice trembling slightly. "But… I do care about him, and I want him to be happy." She paused, her voice cracking with emotion. "Even if… even if his happiness means being with someone else… So, don't worry, Mr. Sterling, I won't ruin his future. I don't want to put the man who means everything to me in an awkward position. I will distance myself from Damien."
Don stared at her, his mind reeling. She didn't just look like Rose, she spoke like her too. She had that same quiet strength, that same unwavering pride. He had utterly underestimated her. He had judged her as a gold digger or a weak girl he could easily intimidate, a threat to his plans. Instead, this proud woman stood before him, an entirely different person from the two versions he had imagined.
Don Sterling sat back in his chair, his gaze fixed on Sarah, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He saw Rose in her—the same unwavering spirit, the same quiet dignity. He heard Rose in her voice, echoing with a love that transcended money, a devotion that defied his carefully laid plans. He had come to dismiss her, to buy her off, to protect his grandson. But he had found a connection to his past, a reminder of a love he had cherished, a love that had shaped the man he had become.
Don spoke, and his words carried a different kind of weight. "Sarah, thank you. I'm an old man, and my life is coming to its end... All I want is for Damien and Penelope to get married as soon as possible. Those two kids, they are meant for each other. As for you, I admire you; in a way, you remind me of her... But child, you and Damien... It's impossible for the two of you."
Sarah stood before him, her heart heavy with the weight of his revelation. She cared for Damien, deeply. She wanted him to be happy, even if that happiness meant a life without her. The thought brought a sharp pang of pain, a deep ache in her chest. But she wouldn't stand in his way, wouldn't be the reason he couldn't fulfil his obligations or his family's expectations. Since he was willing to fulfil his grandfather's last wish, she couldn't possibly stand in his way.
"Mr. Sterling," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "I… I understand. I won't… I won't interfere with Damien's life. I just need some time to say goodbye."
Don watched her, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and admiration. He saw the pain in her eyes, the genuine love she held for his grandson. He saw the echo of Rose, the woman who had possessed the same unwavering devotion. He had misjudged her, had underestimated her strength.
He sighed, the weight of his years pressing down on him. "Sarah," he said, his voice softer now, "you remind me of someone. Someone I… I cared for very much."
Sarah looked at him, her eyes filled with curiosity. "May I ask who?" she whispered.
Don hesitated, wrestling with the secrets he had kept hidden for so long. He had never spoken of Rose, had buried her memory deep within his heart. But now, looking at Sarah, he felt a compulsion to share, to connect the past with the present.
"Her name was Rose," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "She… she was my friend. We were… close."
Sarah listened intently, her heart pounding with a strange sense of anticipation. She felt a connection to this woman, this Rose, a feeling that went beyond mere curiosity.
"She was… special," Don continued, his voice laced with nostalgia. "She had a kind heart, a strong spirit. She… she was everything I admired in a woman."
He paused, his gaze fixed on Sarah's face, searching for any flicker of recognition. "You… you look like her," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "It's… uncanny."
Sarah's breath hitched. She felt a strange pull towards this woman, this Rose, a feeling that resonated deep within her soul. She closed her eyes, trying to conjure an image, a memory, but all she found was an empty void. She felt like she was absorbing his sadness as he spoke.
"May I ask… what happened to her?"
Don's face clouded with a deep melancholy. "She was… married off to another man," he said, his voice heavy with regret. "And I… I never saw her again."
He reached out and took her hand, his touch gentle and reassuring. "Alright," he said softly. "I've already said too much."
He paused, his gaze searching hers. "You have a kind heart, Sarah," he said. "And I have nothing against you, my child. It's just that… this marriage alliance between the two families must happen. It is… my last wish." His voice was frail, tinged with the weariness of a man facing his mortality. "I will give you time to say whatever it is that you need to say before you take your leave."