Chapter 33
“My brother would never betray his wife.”
“I used to think, after all, we were married and we have Tia. I just wanted an amicable separation, nothing more,” Hedwig said, her voice thick with bitterness as she turned to Eddy.
“Brother, he cheated on me during our marriage. He kept a college girl as his mistress, took her to public events, let her parade around as Mrs. Yates, and even got her pregnant. One thing after another, unforgivable.”
“I want him out with nothing. I never want to see him again as long as I live!”
“I’ll never forgive him!”
As Hedwig listed Vincent’s betrayals, her every word drenched in heartbreak and rage, Blanche felt her own chest tighten. This was her pain too-her story, her silent cry.
But Eddy showed no reaction at all, as if he were just a bystander.
Blanche couldn’t stay another moment. She was afraid she’d lose control and, like Hedwig, shatter the façade, confront him, and throw everything into the open.
Eddy wasn’t Vincent, and she didn’t have a brother like Eddy to stand up for her.
In the prison he’d woven around her, she was utterly alone.
Blanche slipped out of the tea room, planning to check on the children.
Behind her, Eddy’s voice rang out, calm and detached. “Bring him to the Yates estate and let Leroy know. In three days, either I see divorce papers with Vincent leaving everything behind and giving up custody of Tia, or the Yates family goes bankrupt.”
As Blanche climbed the stairs, she caught sight of Vincent-his mouth sealed with tape, being dragged out of the house by bodyguards. No matter how he struggled, Hedwig didn’t spare him a single glance.
Only after Vincent was shoved into the car and it pulled away did Hedwig collapse into Eddy’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably.
Blanche looked away.
Upstairs, Tia had cried herself to sleep. Healy sat by her side, gently wiping away her tears.
Blanche sent the housekeeper away and stood quietly in the doorway, watching them. For a moment, she was transfixed.
“Mom, why did Uncle Vincent go off with another woman?” Healy’s voice was small but resolute.
“How could he do something so awful-hurt Aunt Hedwig and make Tia so sad?”
“I don’t want to call him Uncle anymore.”
Healy’s soft arms wrapped around Blanche’s neck as he dove into her embrace, just like he used to whenever a nightmare or fright left him shaken and seeking comfort.
Healy’s empathy for Tia tugged at Blanche’s heart. Instinctively, she hugged him close.
“If someday you found out your dad acted like Vincent-went off with another woman and made me as heartbroken as Aunt Hedwig, what would you do?” Blanche asked, searching Healy’s soulful eyes.
“Would he make me as sad as Tia?” Healy asked, his gaze innocent and earnest.
Blanche went silent, recalling every gentle, happy moment between Healy and Jeannette. She released him, her heart aching as if scraped raw.
“Maybe… he wouldn’t.” Her voice grew dim, but she answered him all the same.
Sensing her sadness, Healy remembered his father’s words on the playground: Mom isn’t well, be good, don’t upset her.
“Then I wouldn’t call him Dad anymore,” Healy declared.
As soon as he said it, Blanche looked up, tears gleaming in her eyes, but she broke into a radiant smile.
Healy smiled too.
Mom was so easy to cheer up. It seemed like anything he said could make her happy.
Blanche knelt down to meet Healy at eye level, gripping his hands, overwhelmed by the bittersweet feeling of having him back-a feeling tinged with guilt.
She shouldn’t have doubted Healy.
He was her own flesh and blood, the child she risked everything to bring into the world. How could he ever take someone else’s side?
“Healy, tell me at KT Park, what’s the name of the little girl with short hair you met?”
