Chapter 8 - The Clearing of the Air
When the heavy glass door clicked shut behind Brandon, a heavy weight seemed to lift from the conference room.
Claire sank into the chair nearest the door, burying her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with quiet, exhausted sobs. I stood up immediately, walking around the table, and knelt beside her chair, pulling her into my arms the way I used to when she was a little girl scraped up on the playground.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” Claire whispered into my shoulder, her tears soaking into the fabric of my coat. “I was so blind. I wanted it to work so badly. I wanted the perfect family for Lily and Owen. I didn't want to admit that he... that he despised everything about our life before him.”
“You don't have to apologize for wanting a family, sweetheart,” I murmured, stroking her hair. “Never apologize for hoping for the best in people. But you also don't have to stay tied to a anchor just because you’re afraid of the water.”
Sarah Lin leaned against the edge of the table, folding her arms gently. “Claire, for what it’s worth, your mother’s legal team is going to ensure you and the children are completely protected. We’ve already drawn up preliminary separation and divorce filings, designed to safeguard your personal assets and ensure Brandon cannot touch the trust fund your father set up for the kids.”
Claire lifted her head, wiping her eyes with a tissue Chloe had quietly handed her. She looked at me, fear and relief warring in her expression. “A divorce?”
“Only if you want it, darling,” I said softly, holding her hands. “But whatever you choose, you and the children will never have to worry about a roof over your heads or food on your table. You are coming home with me today. We’ll get your things from the townhouse under police escort if necessary.”
May you like
Claire took a deep, shuddering breath—the first truly free breath I had seen her take in three years. A small, resolute nod finally broke through her grief.
“Okay, Mom,” she whispered. “Let’s go home.”
