Chapter 36 Chapter 36
"Some wounds are not inherited through blood, but through the people who taught you what love was never meant to be.”
The steam rising from the bowls curled lazily toward the ceiling, carrying the sharp scent of chili and garlic with it. Trinity slurped her noodles noisily, groaning in satisfaction as she leaned back against the couch.
“God,” she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, “I forgot how good it feels to eat without wondering if someone’s watching or if there'll be a deadly fight again."
Clara laughed softly, twirling noodles around her fork. The sound surprised her, it had been a while since laughter came easily. “Or without someone barking orders at us.”
Their apartment felt warmer than she remembered but still familiar. The windows were open, letting in the sounds of the street, cars, distant music, life moving on without Saint Ridge hovering over it.
They talked easily, the way they used to before everything became depressing and heavy.
“Did you see that house down the block?” Trinity asked. “The one with the ridiculous inflatable skeleton?”
Clara smiled. “Yes, it looks like it’s guarding the place.”
“I was thinking,” Trinity continued, eyes lighting up, “we could do something dramatic for Halloween. Maybe fog machines or fake gravestones.”
Clara leaned forward, excitement flickering across her face “We could carve pumpkins and line the walkway too or hang those fake spider webs everywhere.”
“Or just do both "
The ideas tumbled over each other, silly and harmless. For a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed to nothing more than noodles, decorations, and shared laughter.
“We should go to the mall now,” Clara said suddenly. “Before everything gets sold out.”
Trinity raised an eyebrow. “Now? Clara, I can barely feel my legs. Let’s rest today, we’ve got the whole week.”
The shift in Clara was immediate, Her smile faded, shoulders drooping as if someone had pulled a string loose inside her. “I just thought…” she murmured. “I just wanted to distract my mind.”
Trinity straightened. “Distract your mind from what?”
Clara’s grip tightened around her fork. For a long moment, she didn’t answer, she just stared at her plate then her shoulders sagged, and her voice cracked.
“Hale."
The name hung between them like smoke. Something about that name made them shiver.
“I don’t want to think about him anymore,” Clara said quietly “I don’t know why I keep… going back in my head. After everything. After how he treated me.”
She swallowed hard. “He made it very clear I was nothing to him. Just something to use. And yet... ” Her voice wavered. “And yet it still hurts.”
Tears welled up in her eyes, and she looked away quickly, ashamed of them, ashamed of herself.
“I don’t understand what’s wrong with me,” she whispered.
Trinity moved closer, setting her bowl aside. She reached out, pulling Clara into a gentle hug. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”
Clara shook slightly against her. “It feels like there is. I keep going back even after being treated like shit "
“It’s not your fault,” Trinity said firmly. “Sometimes the heart latches onto things that are bad for us. That doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.”
She pulled back just enough to look Clara in the eye. “This week is ours. No Saint Ridge, no Hale, no twisted people with god complexes. We rest. We decorate. We live.”
Clara nodded, wiping her cheeks. “Okay, I'll try not to think about him. "
Rihana’s room was dark except for the glow of her computer screen, lines of text and images flashing as her fingers moved quickly over the keyboard. Her expression was focused, lips pursed in concentration. A knock sounded at the door.
She didn’t look up. “I told you not to disturb me. Can you let me be for fuck sake?"
But the door opened anyway.
“Seriously?” she snapped. “Do you people get off on invading my privacy?”
She glanced up, already prepared to unleash another string of insults then froze.
The woman standing in the doorway was tall and slender, her blonde hair falling perfectly down her back. She looked impossibly young, as though time had simply decided to ignore her altogether. Her skin was flawless, her movements unhurried and elegant.
Rihana’s stomach twisted, after what seemed like forever she was standing in front of her again. That bitch Marilyn.
“You,” she said coldly. “Why did you crawl back from whatever hole you’ve been hiding in?, and you decided to come here?"
Marilyn laughed softly, as if amused. “Is that how you greet your mother?”
Rihana crossed her arms over her chest. “Get the fuck out of my room you bitch"
Marilyn’s smile faded into a frown. “Watch your language, that's no way to talk to your mother.”
“Or what?” Rihana shot back. “You’ll abandon me again?”
“I’m here because your father asked me to come,” She said evenly. “He thought I might be able to talk some sense into you.”
Rihana scoffed. “He’s a fool if he thinks I’ll listen to you even for a minute. Now get out of my room and disappear forever."
She sighed, stepping fully into the room. “Stop making things harder for my husband. Over the past few days, he has been reaching out to me constantly and I hate it."
Rihana laughed bitterly. “Is that the same husband you abandoned with two kids?"
Marilyn rolled her eyes. “I’m still a Brattfield, still married to the mayor. I will come and go as I please.”
Rihana’s eyes burned. “Leave already, take your fake skin, fake love, and fake body with you.”
Marilyn’s gaze sharpened. “Nothing about me is fake. I inherited my looks from my mother. Clearly, that skipped you.”
Rihana flinched at her mother's insulting words.
“As for love,” She continued calmly, “ it was never something I specialized in. I only love myself, always have and I’m only here cause I want my husband to get off my back."
Silence stretched between them then Marilyn’s expression softened, just a fraction. “Riri.... "
That name from her mother’s mouth cracked something inside Rihana and without thinking her hand connected with her mother’s face in a bruising slap.
“Never... ever ” Rihana hissed, “call me that. "
For a heartbeat, nothing happened then her mother’s composure snapped. She lunged forward, pressing Rihana hard against the floor. Two slaps followed; violent, ringing, far harder than the one Rihana had delivered.
“Do not,” she said coldly, “ever raise your hand to me ever again. I won't hesitate to beat you up you overpampered bitch."
The she stood, smoothing her clothes as if nothing had happened.
Her gaze raked over Rihana with open disdain. “You’re pathetic,” she said flatly. “So desperate for a man that you’ll burn the world just to get his attention?. No wonder you're growing old so fast."
"Get out! "
Marilyn smirked " The next time my husband calls because of you... I'll come here and beat you to a pulp. "
She turned and walked out without another word while Rihana lay on the floor, shaking with fury.
Her vision blurred, not with tears, but with rage.
She wanted to find her father. To scream at him. To hurt him for bringing that woman back into her life.
For reminding her exactly where all this hunger for validation and taking things no matter the cost had begun.