Chapter 40
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THE silence had stretched too long. Weeks of icy looks, clipped sentences, and cold shoulders had hardened the walls between Adrian and Amelia. No matter how many times be knocked on that invisible door with apologies, gifts, or the soft words he rarely ever spoke, she never opened it. And Adrian, a man who was used to being in control, was unraveling beneath the weight of rejection.
That evening, seated in his study, he pressed the phone against his ear, waiting. He had sworn to Amelia the last time not to drag others into his marital battles. But a man can only take so much silence. And so, once again, he broke a promise.
“Hello?” Mrs. Harlow’s gentle voice filled the line.
“Mom, it is me. Adrian,” he said, his tone carrying more weariness than he intended.
There was a pause, then warmth.
“Oh! Adrian! My most loving son-in-law. It has been a while. How are you p>
“I… I don’t even know anymore,” he admitted, leaning back against his chair, his hand brushing over his forehead. “Mom, I can’t take it anymore. Amelia hasn’t spoken a word to me for weeks. I have tried everything. Gifts, words, even time, but nothing. She won’t forgive me p>
Mrs. Harlow’s voice softened.
“Tell me, my son, what exactly happened? Start from the beginning p>
He swallowed hard, guilt tugging at his chest.
“It was Hazel’s award presentation at school. She was so excited, she begged me for days to come. I promised her I would. But then work happened. I had piles of documents to sign, clients breathing down my neck, and deadlines that wouldn’t wait. By the time I looked at the clock, the event was already over. I… I failed them both.” His voice cracked, though he tried to mask it.
“I see,” Mrs. Harlow said slowly. “And you apologized p>
“Yes. I apologized. I bought Hazel gifts, the ones she had been begging for. Dolls, sketchpads, even that electronic set she saw in the store. She forgave me instantly. Smiled at me and said, ‘Thank you, Daddy.’ But Amelia-” He shook his head, though she couldn’t see. “Amelia still looks at me like I’m the enemy. She won’t say a word. Not even at the dinner table. Not even at night. Just silence p>
“She is hurt, Adrian. You broke her trust, yet again,” Mrs. Harlow explained gently. “But tell me, Hazel is fine now p>
“Yes, Mom,” he answered quickly, eager to cling to the one victory. “She forgave me. She is happy with her gifts, and she still hugs me every morning before school. But her mother… she just won’t let it go p>
Mrs. Harlow sighed, pity coating her tone.
“Adrian, my son, you must understand, Amelia feels things deeper than Hazel. She sees your absence not just as one mistake but as a pattern. Still, silence cannot last forever. I will talk to her p>
“Please, Mom,” he pleaded, his voice urgent, almost desperate. “I miss her so much. I can’t stand walking into our room and seeing her turn her back to me. I can’t stand Hazel asking why Mummy doesn’t laugh at Daddy’s jokes anymore. Please, talk to her. You are the only one she listens to when she is like this p>
“I will,” she promised. “I will speak to her. Give her some time, Adrian p>
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“Thank you,” he breathed out, relief washing over him. “Thank you, Mom. I don’t deserve yr ur kindness, but thank you p>
They exchanged a few more words before she ended the call. Mrs. Harlow set the phone down on the table beside her and leaned back in her chair, her heart heavy. She had always admired Adrian’s devotion to providing for this family, but sometimes, she wished he would slow down and see that presence mattered more than presents.
Just then, laughter cut through her thoughts. A sharp, mocking laugh.
It was none other, but Claire.
She sauntered into the living room, her eyes glinting with mischief, lips curled in derision. She crossed her arms and tilted her head, her voice laced with sarcasm.
“Your favorite son-in-law, huh? Always calling whenever he slips off, whenever he messes up, so you can call his wife and plead on his behalf. Isn’t that pathetic p>
Mrs. Harlow’s eyes shot up, anger instantly flashing.
“You this child p>
“Yes, it is me,” Claire sneered, tossing her hair. “I’m always the bad one, right? While Amelia, your beloved Amelia, is the perfect daughter. With her perfect husband and her perfect child. But guess what, Mother, her so- called perfect husband doesn’t even show up when needed. It looks beautiful on the outside, but go inside, and it is a disaster. Just smiles for the camera. Ahh p>
“At least, she has a family,” Mrs. Harlow snapped back. “A caring husband. Which have you been able to get? Even a paralyzed one, I didn’t see p>
Claire’s laughter rang bitter, slicing the air.
“How sure are you it was work that kept Adrian away on that day? Tell me, what kind of work keeps a man from attending the event of the daughter he claims to love? Huh p>
“You wouldn’t understand,” Mrs. Harlow countered firmly. “You have never had piles of documents and files stacked on your desk. You have never had men waiting for you to make decisions that could change entire businesses. All you do is lavish and squander what your father built with sweat and tears p>
Claire rolled her eyes.
“There you go again. Digressing. I was asking, how sure are you that your most loved Adrian, your perfect son-in- law, doesn’t have something up his sleeves? A skeleton in his cupboard? How sure are you? Do you follow him about?” She laughed mockingly.
Mrs. Harlow’s lips tightened, her patience thinning.
“Don’t you dare insinuate such nonsense about Adrian p>
“Ha!” Claire exclaimed. “Defensive, are we? Maybe because deep down you know it is possible. You just don’t want to see it. But, Mother, not all that glitters is gold. You praise him, you defend him, but men like Adrian? They always have secrets p>
“That is enough!” Mrs. Harlow barked, her voice rising with authority that could silence even the boldest. “Leave this place, Claire. At once p>
Claire smirked, unbothered by the venom in her mother’s tone.
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“Of course. I will leave. But remember my words. You might think Amelia’s life is perfect, bu one day, the cracks will show. And when they do, don’t say I didn’t warn you p>
With a bitter laugh, she turned on her heels and strutted out, her laughter echoing down the hallway like a curse.
Mrs. Harlow sat still for a moment, her chest heaving with anger and frustration. That daughter of hers had a way of spitting poison with every word. She pressed her hand against her temple, breathing in and out slowly, until her rage simmered down into resolve.
Without wasting another moment, she picked up her phone again and began dialing Amelia’s number.
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Olivia Harris
Olivia Harris is an emerging author celebrated for her captivating romantic and steamy novels. With a talent for crafting deep emotional connections and fiery chemistry between her characters, Olivia’s stories offer readers an escape into worlds filled with passion, intrigue, and heart-stopping drama.