Chapter 8
“Mom! Enough!” Beckett cut in sharply, his voice brimming with anger.
Just then, my kindly neighbor forced her way through the crowd, raising her voice to declare, “Clara has never clung to your son! It’s your son who’s been hounding her!”
“In the days she was away, he’s been behaving like a madman, hanging around her door every single day” she continued.
“He kept pestering me about her, never mentioning they’d broken up! I have
surveillance cameras at my door. If you don’t believe me, I can show you the footage,” she added.
Her bold words finally made those who had
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been casting judgmental glances at me drop their eyes in shame. Even Beckett’s smooth–talking mother was left speechless.
Faced with the truth, Beckett didn’t react with anger. Instead, he admitted with surprising calmness, “Yes, she never clung to me. I was always the one pursuing her.”
His words resonated with undeniable
sincerity. His eyes, filled with helpless regret, locked onto mine.
Red–faced with fury, Beckett’s mother huffed coldly before storming off.
Beckett seemed as if he wanted to continue speaking, but I preemptively cut him off. “Everything I said earlier was true. I don’t want to see you again. Please, stop seeking me out.”
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WiWithout waiting for a responses est stepped inside my apartment, ignoring hisisilsilent ple
Latereh that night, just as I finished washshing up and was about to tackle some evererdue work,ryny phone buzzed with a flurry of of notificatiations from shopping apps. s.
Intriguede topopened one to investigate furtheme
To my astonishishment, several recent ordersrs appeared, allafoforbaby products, made via a a shared familyiacaccount.
That’s when it hithimene–hlahad linked a familyty account with Beckekettages ago, meaning g everything eithen of afsusupurchased showed up in each other’s shoppingnly history.
The irony smacked me in iththe face as I stared at those absurd orders, refleflecting on his earlier desperate pleasas.
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I swiftly went into the app to sever the family account link. I meticulously scanned my phone to ensure no ties with Beckett remained.
As the weekend rolled around, my neighbor suggested a shopping trip, worried that too much time at home might make me overthink.
At the mall, she waved her hand generously and asked, “What kind of milk tea do you want? Pick anything–my treat today!”
We often shared treats and surprises, so I didn’t hesitate to accept her offer and let her order for me.
While waiting for our drinks, I spotted a familiar silhouette. Squinting for a better look, I realized it was a woman who looked
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strikingly like Mara. But she was sarm–in–arm with a man I didn’t recognizee
Before I could confirm her identity, theey disappeared into a hotel across the sseeet.
“What are you looking at?” my neighboor inquired.
“Nothing,” I replied, shaking my head..
I reminded myself that, regardless of who citit was, it had nothing to do with me and quicklyy brushed it off.
That night, just as I was drifting to sleep, an unexpected call from an unknown number pierced the silence.
As soon as I picked up, heart–wrenching cries erupted on the other end.
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“Clelara, you heartless womanat! How could yoyout stand by while someone hanarmed my dadaughter–in–law and grandson? GiGive me ba myngrgrandson’s life!”
The coronsensical accusation leftmeneteterly
confotounded.
Before ecocould respond, the sobbing stoppape replaced byby Beckett’s strained voice.e.
He explaineded that Mara had been assaultede suffering masassive blood loss, and wasas rushed to the ledsospital.
As she was wheeleded into surgery, she apparently kept calling for me.
The absurdity of the sitituation actually made me laugh in sheer disbelielief.
