From Forgotten Wife To Fierce Queen - Chapter 207: Chapter 207

"When I was young, I was an idealist. I had had enough of the suffocating life as an heir of the Godard family, so I abandoned my identity, forged a fake one, and applied for a teaching position at Harrowfell University.
"Pretty childish, right?" Tyson mocked himself, glancing at Elara. "I called it idealism, but in reality, it was just irresponsibility. I didn't realize that back then. On the contrary, I thought I had finally escaped my miserable life."
Yet, at the same time, he was grateful for that foolish decision.
If he hadn't done it, he never would have met Enya. He only regretted that if he had chosen a different way to meet Enya, maybe things wouldn't have ended up like this. Instead, the three of them would still be together as a complete family.
"Your biological mother?" said Tyson.
The moment she heard those words, Paisley sat up straight.
Tyson hesitated for a moment before softening his tone. "Do you know who your biological mother is?"
Paisley nodded but then shook her head in confusion. "I only know that she was Byron's sister."
Back at the Beaumont family, the information had been vague.
She didn't know much, nor had she had time to investigate further before Max had summoned her to Brightmoor.
Seeing his daughter's red, bewildered eyes, Tyson felt his heart clench. "That's right. She was Byron's youngest sister. But when I first met her, I had no idea."
Noticing the doubt in Paisley's eyes, Tyson explained, "Back then, she worked as a librarian at Harrowfell University. Since I was living in the faculty dorms, I often spent my free time in the library."
As he recalled his first meeting with Enya, his gaze drifted into the distance. "The moment I saw her, I was drawn to her. Of course, I wasn't the only one—countless men at Harrowfell University were captivated by her. But I was the luckiest one because, in the end, she chose me."
"Your mother was a little trickster," Tyson said with a fond smile. "She told me she was an orphan, alone in the world, so I naturally assumed she had no family. But looking back, she didn't actually lie. She was indeed without parents—she just didn't tell me she had a brother."
At that moment, Paisley murmured, "Didn't you deceive her too?"
Tyson froze for a second before pressing his lips together and nodding. The warmth in his eyes was replaced by deep guilt. "Yeah, I did. So I have no right to call her a trickster."
Compared to Enya's selective truth-telling, he was the real fraud for hiding behind a false identity.
"I only learned later that your mother left the Beaumont family because she refused to accept the arranged marriage Byron had set up for her.
"So I've often wondered—if I had told her the truth about my identity back then, maybe Byron would have considered me a suitable match for her. If that had happened, she could have returned to being the heiress of the Godard family, without having to struggle outside. Then maybe—"
Enya wouldn't have been attacked on her way home that night. She wouldn't have died.
Tyson didn't continue. It felt as if a dozen sharp knives were carving into his chest, slicing him apart bit by bit.
Seeing the change in his expression, Paisley quickly stepped forward and pressed on an acupoint to ease his discomfort.
Tyson coughed a few times. The pain in his heart gradually subsided with Paisley's help.
"I'm fine now." He lifted his gaze, meeting Paisley's deep eyes. Those eyes looked so much like Enya's.
Taking a slow breath, Tyson continued, "Even though my identity was fake, my feelings for her were real. The longer I spent with her, the less I wanted to return to my old life. The restrictions that came with being 'Tyson' were overwhelming.
"I didn't want my peaceful life with your mother to be disrupted, and I didn't want her to suffer under the control of the Godard family."
Tyson's words made Paisley inevitably think of herself after marrying Dominick.
That period of being unwelcomed and neglected was truly tormenting.
"But our peaceful life was still disrupted." Tyson's gaze lowered. "During a school assignment abroad, I was unexpectedly injured and fell into a coma. When I woke up, I had already been sent back to the Godard family in Monterathe.
"At the same time, I lost all my memories of Harrowfell. Back then, you already existed, but I didn't remember. I forgot both you and your mother."
Paisley found it unbelievable. "How could such a coincidence happen?"
And oddly enough, only the memories of Harrowfell were lost.
Tyson let out a sarcastic laugh. "Yeah, how could such a coincidence happen? But for a long time, I was in a state of amnesia. By the time I remembered, my father—your biological grandfather—had already passed away. Many things could no longer be verified."
Tyson made it clear that the accident and memory loss were most likely orchestrated by the former head of the Godard family.
However, Tyson had been without his memories for too long, and his father had already passed away.
Even if he wanted to investigate the truth behind his accident and amnesia, there was no way to do so.
Paisley tried to put herself in the shoes of the old master of the Godard family, analyzing the situation logically.
His carefully nurtured eldest son, instead of taking on the family inheritance, went into hiding as a university professor and even got involved with an unknown librarian.
As the head of an aristocratic family with a century-old legacy, such a situation was absolutely unacceptable.
But he knew his son well—forcing him wouldn't work, so he had to resort to something more covert.
As for that woman in Harrowfell, she was neither a noble lady nor particularly capable—just a simple librarian.
Tyson thought, 'How could someone like her become the mistress of the Godard family? It was nothing more than a fleeting romance. Just let her fend for herself. Not targeting her directly is already a form of mercy.'
Paisley lowered her eyes. Having listened to everything, she could only find it ironic.
From everyone's perspective, it seemed they all had their own unavoidable reasons.
For a moment, she didn't even know who was truly at fault. But she thought, 'What about me? What have I done wrong?'
Tyson gazed at Paisley, knowing that after saying all this, she might resent him. She might even refuse to acknowledge him as her father.
But he didn't want to deceive his daughter, nor did he want to deceive the people he cared about.
"Girl, I know you're angry at me. I want to make it up to you. Can you give me that chance?" Tyson pleaded.
Paisley lifted her head and looked at him seriously. "No, I'm not angry."
The one who should be angry wasn't her—it was Enya, her mother.
From the beginning, all she ever wanted was an answer. An answer to why Christina didn't love her. Now, she had her answer. It proved that her suspicions were correct.
"So, I was supposed to have a happy family, right? You both were supposed to love me, right?"
"Yes." Tyson's eyes turned red as he nodded firmly. "Your mother and I—we both love you."
Even before she was born, he had thought of many names for her.
"Wait a minute..." Tyson suddenly thought of something. "Brittany... Brittany was supposed to be your name."
Although he had regained his memories in recent years, some parts were still blurry.
When he first heard the name Brittany, it felt familiar, and he instinctively believed that it was supposed to be his daughter's name.
He had even been grateful to Brittany's adoptive parents, thinking that they had chosen such a beautiful name for his daughter because they loved her dearly.
But just now, it hit him—this was the name he and Enya had originally chosen for their daughter.
He looked deeply at Paisley. His daughter was right in front of him, yet she was not called Brittany. Moreover, her surname was Sutton.