Chapter 35
JACKSON'S POV
I had thought Vera wouldn’t return to my house when she left that morning, even after spending a few seconds convincing Tim that she would come back. But I was wrong.
My heart did a somersault when I opened the door and saw her standing there. She looked stunning in a green gown, the fur jacket hanging over her arm. I took the jacket from her without a word and stepped aside to let her in.
God, I couldn't take my eyes off her hips and those long legs. I stood frozen, watching her like I was in a trance.
"Hey, baby!" she greeted sweetly and kissed Tim’s tiny fingers.
I can't believe I felt jealous, of my own son. Snapping out of it, I remembered to close the door and folded my arms, still watching them like a statue.
"Are you going to leave again?" Tim asked sadly, his eyes full of innocence.
"I... I... Tim..." her voice cracked. She knelt and hugged him tightly, a raw and genuine kind of embrace.
It baffled me. For someone considering aborting a child, she loved kids so deeply. They were always drawn to her too.
"Let's get going," she said abruptly and walked around me toward the exit.
"All right," I murmured, following her lead. I opened the door for them to walk out first, locked up, and we all got into the car.
Just as I began to drive out, Monica blocked the gate with her car, music blaring loud enough to rattle the glass. She swerved the car forward and back, as though trying to make a scene.
"What the hell is wrong with her?" I cursed.
"You should know. She’s your wife, after all," Vera mumbled, eyes locked on the chaos ahead.
I gave her a long, hard look before stepping out of the car. I wasn’t shocked to find Monica drunk again. She stumbled as she tried to climb out of her car.
"Hey, sweetheart!" she slurred, falling straight into my arms.
She grabbed my jacket. "What’s wrong with you? Don’t you ever get tired of living like this?"
She laughed drunkenly, eyes scanning me from head to toe. "You look so damn handsome and hot tonight. Tell me, where y’all going to? I see that btch in your car."
I dragged her away before she could stagger further toward Vera. I managed to wrestle her to the front door. It took effort, but I got it open while keeping her steady and locked her inside.
She screamed, cursed, and banged on the door, but I tuned her out, moved her car out of the way, and finally drove out.
Vera sat silently beside me. Her eyes stayed glued to the passing scenery or on Tim. The ride to my family’s home was steeped in silence.
When we arrived, she stepped out and helped Tim down. He dashed ahead to the door, giving me a brief moment to talk to her.
"You didn’t have to come if you weren’t comfortable. My mother would've understood," I said, offering my hand.
She took it, but the distance between us didn’t close. She said nothing.
"Are you okay?" I asked as we entered the sitting room.
She only nodded as my mother and sister rushed out to meet her.
My mother beamed, holding her hands with affection. "Thanks for coming. I'm so happy!"
She led Vera to the dining area.
"Hi?" Benny, my sister, said, cautiously greeting me.
She was still afraid. I could see it. She kept her distance, but I embraced her anyway and walked her to the dining room. She looked at me with surprise as I pulled out a chair for her. She sat slowly, still stealing glances.
I knew that look. She wondered what had changed. For two years, I barely acknowledged her existence. Now I was acting civil?
She knew I wouldn’t have attended this family dinner if it wasn’t for a reason. And that reason was sitting across the table, smiling and laughing with our mother, even though she was angry with me.
I noticed how dull and distant she was beneath the forced cheerfulness.
WRITER'S POV
Evans, Jackson’s cousin, arrived shortly after with his wife, Victoria. The dinner was cheerful and full of warm memories for most, but not for Jackson or Vera, who only pretended to enjoy themselves.
Noah, Jackson's mother’s stepbrother, also showed up unexpectedly with his girlfriend and child. Jackson had forgotten how much his mother loved a noisy, full house.
"Only graveyards are meant to be quiet, and even if they're noisy, we just can’t hear them because we’re alive!" Mrs. Taylor said, repeating her usual line.
Jackson couldn’t stop watching Vera as she mingled with people she had just met, blending in so effortlessly. She played games, laughed loudly, and cracked jokes like she belonged.
He found himself amazed. He’d known these people his entire life and couldn’t manage the kind of warmth she displayed.
But he also noticed something else, behind that smile was an emptiness. Her eyes often drifted off. Her mind was somewhere far from the dinner table. Something was eating at her.
As the small gathering wound down, numbers were exchanged and plans made for the next dinner. Jack managed to stop his mother from chasing after Vera again, he shut the door gently but firmly.
If given the chance, his mother would’ve begged Vera to spend the night. And he knew, deep down, that he wouldn’t have gone anywhere if Vera had stayed.
Luckily, he got her out in time. On the drive, he asked how she felt. She said she was fine.
He didn’t believe her.
He drove her home in silence. Tim had fallen asleep on her lap. When they arrived, she kissed Tim goodnight gently and opened the door.
Jack didn’t drive off immediately. He waited, just to make sure.
Moments later, she ran back outside, clearly shaken and terrified.
He slammed the brakes, jumped out, but the seatbelt caught him. He bumped his head on the bonnet as he struggled to free himself. But he didn’t care. The only pain that mattered was the look on Vera’s face.
She rushed into his arms and burst into tears. He didn’t know he had such patience in him until he stood there for nearly an hour, holding her as she cried her heart out.
He didn’t need to ask what triggered it.
He knew.
She must have seen another one of those red envelopes and the single lily flower, the signature of the tormentor stalking her.
It could be nothing else.
Jack scooped her into the car and carried her home, to his mansion. He didn’t wait for permission. He just drove.
When they arrived, he handed her a glass of cold milk, hoping it would calm her nerves.
She didn’t say much. But her silence screamed louder than any words ever could.