Chapter 153 Truth Between Sisters

Chapter 153 Truth Between Sisters
Christina: POV

"She always treats you like this?" I whispered to Claire as Mrs. Liu's heavy footsteps retreated down the hallway.

The old woman had practically sneered at me since the moment I walked in, looking at me like I was something she'd scraped off her shoe.

"Shh, keep it down. If she hears you, she'll run straight to Tyler and complain," Claire whispered back, nervously glancing toward the door.

Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her cashmere sweater, a nervous habit she'd had since we were kids.

Claire grabbed my hand and pulled me toward her bedroom.

Once inside, she quickly shut the door and leaned against it, exhaling like she'd just outrun a predator.

The tension in her shoulders was painful to watch.

"That woman is Tyler's second cousin or something," Claire explained, moving to sit on the edge of her perfectly made bed.

"He insists we pay her twice what a normal housekeeper would make, and I still have to put up with her attitude."

"Why don't you fire her?" I asked, knowing the answer even as the words left my mouth.

Claire gave me that look—the one that said I was being naive.

"Tyler would never allow it. Family is sacred to him. Unless it's my family, of course."

She attempted a laugh that came out more like a choke.

I bit my tongue to keep from saying what I really thought about my brother-in-law.

Claire didn't need my criticism; she needed my support.

I'd learned the hard way that attacking Tyler only pushed Claire away.

"Anyway," I said, forcing brightness into my voice, "I actually came to tell you something. I've moved in with my boyfriend. We're living together now."

Claire's eyes widened.

"Boyfriend? I haven't heard you mention anyone. When did this happen?"

"His name is Patrick Brown," I said, the lie flowing easier than I expected.

"We met about a year ago when I was... sick."

At least that part was true.

"He took care of me, and things just developed from there."

"And you're already living together?" Claire raised an eyebrow.

"That seems fast, even for you, Christina."

I shrugged, trying to look nonchalant.

"When you know, you know, right? Besides, his place is amazing—Upper East Side, doorman building, the works."

Claire studied my face, and I felt like she could see right through me.

"Is he good to you?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah," I answered, surprised by the sincerity in my voice.

"He's... different. Strong but gentle. Protective without being controlling."

The unspoken comparison to Tyler hung in the air between us.

"I'm happy for you," Claire said finally, reaching over to squeeze my hand.

"Just... be careful, okay?"

"About what?"

Claire lowered her voice, though we were alone in her bedroom.

"Don't let Mom and Dad find out. Or Grandma. If they get their claws into him, if they show him what they're really like..."

She shook her head.

"You won't have a moment's peace."

"I won't tell them," I promised.

Though I'd already told Patrick most of it—the drinking, the violence, the neglect.

The only part I'd kept to myself was what happened when I was sixteen.

Some things were too dark to share, even with him.

"Actually," I continued, "Patrick's parents want to meet me. They're having a family dinner next Sunday, and I was hoping you might come with me? For moral support?"

Claire's expression softened.

"Oh, Chris..."

"Tyler can come too, if he wants," I added quickly, though secretly hoping he'd decline.

"I'll ask him," Claire said, but I could hear the doubt in her voice.

Tyler rarely let her out of his sight when he wasn't working.

Before she could say more, the bedroom door swung open.

Mrs. Liu stood there with a tray, not bothering to knock.

On it was a steaming cup of what looked like bitter Chinese herbal medicine.

"Time for your fertility treatment," she announced to Claire, her English heavily accented.

She glanced at me with undisguised contempt.

"Maybe if you spend less time with bad influence sister and more time taking medicine, you give husband a son already."

Claire's face flushed with embarrassment.

I felt rage boil up inside me.

"Excuse me?" I stood up, fists clenched.

"My sister's fertility is none of your business. And who says it's even her issue? Has Tyler been checked too?"

Mrs. Liu's eyes narrowed.

"You Americans, always blame man. In China, we know barren woman is family shame. One year married, still no baby. Even farm chicken more useful."

"You fucking bi—" I started, but Claire grabbed my arm.

"Christina, don't," she pleaded.

"Please. It's fine."

"It's not fine!" I hissed, but Claire's grip tightened, her eyes begging me to stop.

Mrs. Liu set the tray down with a clatter and left, muttering in Chinese under her breath.

"Jesus Christ, Claire," I paced the room, too angry to sit.

"How can you let her talk to you like that?"

Claire picked up the cup with resignation.

"You don't understand. Tyler's family has been hoping for a baby since we got married. His mother calls every week to ask if I'm pregnant yet."

I watched her drink the bitter concoction without complaint, and something inside me ached.

She reminded me so much of our mother—always absorbing the blows, physical or verbal, to keep the peace.

"You don't have to put up with this," I said softly.

Claire smiled sadly.

"We all do what we have to do, Chris. You know that better than anyone."

I didn't have an answer for that.

The next day, I was back at my design firm, trying to focus on work instead of worrying about Claire.

I'd barely made it to my desk when Emily from reception buzzed me.

"Christina, there's someone here to see you," she said, her voice oddly excited.

"Says he's your fiancé?"

"My what?" I practically yelled into the phone.

"What the hell? I don't have a fiancé!” Patrick was just my boyfriend!

"Well, I don't know," Emily whispered.

"He's asking for you specifically."

"What's his name?" I asked, though I already had a sinking feeling I knew.

"He says his name is Elliot Sinclair. Says he needs to speak with you urgently about Claire."

My blood ran cold.

I remembered that not long ago, Emily had introduced me to someone with the last name Sinclair.

This might be her doing.

Elliot, here? Claiming to be my fiancé? What the hell was going on?