Chapter152 Unspoken Bonds

Chapter152 Unspoken Bonds
Christina: POV

"I really need to see Claire, it's already been a month." I said, suddenly remembering, my fingers nervously playing with the hem of my shirt as we arrived at our house.

"I haven't told her about moving yet. I'm thinking about staying at her place tonight. And I'd like to ask if she'd come with me to meet your parents."

Patrick set down the keys he was holding and walked over to stroke my hair, his gaze softening.

"Sure, no problem."

He leaned down to kiss my forehead.

"I'll drive you over."

I felt a knot forming in my stomach.

While I'd mentioned my family to Patrick in passing, I really didn't want him getting too deep into the complicated mess that was my family situation.

"I should call her first to make sure," I said quickly, grabbing my phone and heading toward the balcony.

"Check if she's even home."

Once the balcony door closed behind me, I leaned against the cold railing and took a deep breath to steady my racing heart.

I stared out at the city lights, my mind drifting back to childhood—Claire's small hand secretly passing me bread when there wasn't enough food, the only warmth in an otherwise dark existence.

My finger hovered over the call button, anxiety gripping me.

Claire might refuse to see me.

Her husband Tyler kept her on a tight leash, and the few times I'd tried to meet her in the past year, she'd canceled at the last minute.

I could almost hear her hushed excuses, Tyler's voice echoing in the background.

Finally, I pressed call, my heart pounding as I waited.

"Claire? It's me, Christina," I said softly, almost whispering as if Tyler might somehow hear through the phone.

Silence hung on the line for a moment, then my sister's voice, surprised yet restrained: "Christina? Is it really you?"

"Yeah, it's me. I was wondering if I could come over tonight? I need to talk to you about something."

I held my breath, counting each second of silence.

I knew her situation all too well—a housewife with almost no say, living under Tyler's shadow.

He controlled everything from what she wore to who she could see.

The thought of her trapped in that life made my chest ache.

"Tyler's working late tonight, he won't be home," Claire finally said, her voice carrying a barely concealed excitement.

"Yes, come over. It's been so long."

Relief washed over me.

"I'll be there in an hour."

When I returned to the living room, Patrick was already dressed, car keys in hand.

"Claire said yes?" Patrick asked, proving he'd remembered my sister's name.

I nodded, quickly gathering an overnight bag.

"Just for tonight."

Patrick picked up my bag.

"Want me to come up with you?"

I shook my head firmly.

"No need. We sisters have a lot to catch up on."

My tone was light, but my eyes couldn't quite meet his.

"But it's getting a bit late now; I don't feel comfortable with you driving there alone. Let me take you instead."

“Ok; fine." I reluctantly agreed.

The drive to Claire's place was oddly tense.

Patrick's luxury sedan glided through New York's evening streets, but inside, the atmosphere felt heavy.

I stared out the window at the flickering neon signs, my mind miles away from the present moment.

Patrick occasionally glanced my way, clearly noticing my unusual silence.

"You rarely talk about your family in detail," he said carefully.

"I only know the basics."

My fingers unconsciously twisted together in my lap.

"What I've told you... that's pretty much all there is to say."

Patrick didn't push, but his expression suggested this conversation wasn't over for good.

When we pulled up in front of a middle-class apartment building, Patrick seemed slightly surprised.

I could tell it wasn't what he'd expected.

"This is it," I said, quickly unbuckling my seatbelt and grabbing my overnight bag.

Patrick unlocked the doors.

"Let me come up and say hello to Claire. We've never formally met."

"Not a good time," I said immediately, my tone sharper than intended.

"She... doesn't really like meeting new people."

I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I'll call you tomorrow. Thanks for the ride."

Standing in the elevator, I watched the numbers climb, my anxiety rising with each floor.

"I remembered the last time I'd seen Claire was a month ago, when she came to me crying about Tyler's twisted desire to control her."

The memory only made me feel sad and sympathetic about what my sister had gone through.

My sister's experience further reinforced my belief that men were unreliable.

At the end of the hallway was my sister's apartment.

I hesitated for a few seconds before the door, gathering my courage.

Taking a deep breath, I rang the doorbell and heard footsteps approach.

The door opened to reveal not my sister but a stern-faced middle-aged woman—I recognized her as Claire's housekeeper.

The woman looked me up and down, making no effort to hide her disdain.

"Oh, it's you," the housekeeper said coldly, barely stepping aside to create a narrow opening.

"Remember to take off your shoes."

I nodded, removing my heels and slipping on the guest slippers by the door.

Looking into the living room, I saw Claire standing there, her face bearing a nervous yet expectant smile.

Claire took a few steps forward, her voice barely containing her joy, "Christina, you finally came."

She turned to the housekeeper, trying to keep her voice steady: "Mrs. Liu, please get my sister some milk."

The housekeeper's face twisted with barely concealed contempt, her mouth turning downward.

"Her? She deserves it?" she muttered before walking away.