On the Sixth Thanksgiving, I Stopped Waiting for Him Chapter 02
The car started moving again.
With my eyes closed, I heard Vivian ask softly, “Where is Claire staying tonight?”
Julian was silent for a few seconds.
“We’ll take her home first.”
A flicker of hope stirred inside me.
After six years, I was finally going home.
When the car stopped outside an aging apartment building, everything felt strangely unreal.
We went up to the fourth floor. Julian entered the code, and the door unlocked with a beep.
“Who is it?” my mother called from inside.
Warmth rushed into my chest at the sound of her voice.
“Mrs. Bennett, Claire’s back,” Vivian announced.
My mother opened the door. The instant she saw me, her lips began to tremble.
She snapped at me with burning rage.
“So you finally decided to come home!”
She grabbed me by the collar and pummeled me with her fists.
“You vanished for six years without a word! Your father died, and you didn’t even know!”
“You never called us once!”
“I thought you’d died out there!”
I didn’t try to stop her. I simply stood there and let every blow land.
Through the tears blurring my left eye, I looked into the living room.
The family portrait that used to hang on the wall was gone.
In its place was an elegantly framed photograph.
My parents sat in the middle, with Julian on one side and Vivian on the other. All four of them were smiling brightly.
I wasn’t in it.
My mother kept hitting me.
“Where on earth have you been?”
She repeated the question over and over.
At last, my tears began to fall.
“Mom, I didn’t stay away because I wanted to. I was—”
“Mrs. Bennett!” Vivian suddenly interrupted.
“Please don’t hit Claire. She just got back!”
She walked over and affectionately linked arms with my mother.
My mother finally let go of me and turned to Vivian, her expression softening.
“Are you hungry, Vivian? I made chicken soup for you.”
“I knew you loved me best! Claire’s going to get jealous.”
Vivian turned her head and flashed me a smug smile.
Only then did my mother look at me again.
Pain filled her eyes, but so did resentment. More than anything, she looked at me like I was a stranger who had suddenly disrupted the life she’d built without me.
In the end, all she said was, “Go wash up. Don’t bring that smell into the house.”
Julian lowered his gaze to the handprint forming on my cheek. Guilt flickered across his face.
“Claire, I’m sorry…”
“After you disappeared, I told your parents that we’d had a fight and you’d run away because you were angry with me.”
He looked up at me, his eyes pleading.
He didn’t notice as I switched on the recorder in my pocket.
“Your father was already in poor health. I was afraid that if they found out what you’d endured, neither of them would survive the shock.”
My fingernails dug deep into my palms.
From the living room, I could hear Vivian sweet-talking my mother.
“So you let them believe I had abandoned them on purpose?”
Julian swallowed hard.
“I was wrong, but I didn’t have a choice.”
“Were you really afraid my mother couldn’t handle the truth, Julian? Or were you afraid Vivian would be sent to prison?”
“Vivian has felt guilty all these years. She’s been trying to make it right…”
“She spent the last six years looking for you. But the men she hired back then were long gone, and no one knew where they’d taken you…”
“Do you actually believe that, Julian?”
I smiled, but the movement tugged at the stitches around my haggard face. The pain made me draw in a sharp breath.
He didn’t answer.
“While you were gone, Vivian visited your mother every week. She also handled your father’s funeral arrangements…”
“So my mother took in the woman who helped harm me and treated her like her own daughter?”
Julian clamped a hand over my mouth.
“Claire, stop!”
I wrenched myself free of his grip.
“Tell me something, Julian. Whose home is this now?”
I stepped closer until my scarred face was inches from his.
He instinctively turned away.
“You haven’t looked me in the face once since you picked me up!”
“Julian, those six years left permanent marks on my body. I lost the chance to build a family of my own!”
“While you were busy worrying about Vivian, did you ever stop to think about what I went through for six years?”
I gripped the recorder in my pocket.
