Chapter 4

Claire's POV

Two weeks later, Mom was discharged from the hospital.

The moment she saw me, her entire demeanor changed. She reached for my hand with a warm, affectionate smile, as though nothing had happened between us.

"I'll stay at your place for a while after this. I talked to your dad. You've been sulking all this time because you're upset I didn't see you first when I came out of the ICU, isn't it?

"Come on, Claire. Stop keeping score over every little thing. I'll stay with you, and then you can see me every day. Happy now?"

She said it as if she were doing me a favor. I didn't take the bait. "I've already taken a week off work because of the accident. I'm seriously behind, so I won't have time to take care of you.

"You can stay with Cathy after you're discharged. Seeing more of her should be good for your recovery, right?"

Mom's smile vanished instantly. "You've been at your company for years. Nobody's going to care if you slack off a little. Your sister is different. She's still trying to establish herself. She can't afford to let anything interfere with her career."

I gave a humorless laugh. "She's been working for two years, and we're still calling her new? I've been working for seven. What does that make me, ready for retirement?"

Mom waved me off impatiently. "Enough. You always have something to argue about. I'm staying with you, and that's final."

I didn't bother fighting her on it. There was no point anyway. In one week, I would be leaving this city for good.

The entire drive home, Mom complained. She ranted that the hospital food had been awful, the nurses had been too rough with her, and the mattress had left her back aching.

I kept my eyes on the road and said nothing.

In the past, every complaint would have sent my mind racing. I would've tried my best to fulfill her every request. This time, I didn't bother.

Over the next few days, work consumed almost every waking hour. I was leaving the company, which meant projects had to be wrapped up, responsibilities handed over, and loose ends tied up. Working late became routine.

Mom still called me at least five times a day.

Groceries, meals, rides, and errands. There was always something she needed, and she wouldn't stop calling until I'd taken care of it.

Then, over dinner the night before Thanksgiving, she casually said, "Your dad, Cathy, and I are going out for Thanksgiving tomorrow."

My fork paused halfway to my mouth. I didn't say anything.

Mom glanced at me.

"You've been so busy lately, so we figured we shouldn't bother you. We only made a reservation for three. It's a pretty expensive restaurant anyway. Look at it this way—you're saving money by not coming."

I lowered my eyes to my plate.

It hurt. But at the same time, I almost wanted to laugh.

Yes, I'd been so busy lately that I barely made it home for dinner. But my boss wasn't a monster. The office was closed for Thanksgiving. No one was expected to work.

I'd actually planned to have one last holiday dinner with them—a farewell meal, even if they didn't know it was one.

I thought I could use it to quietly close the door on 30 years of a family relationship that had never been much of a family at all. But apparently, they'd made the decision for me.

Maybe it was better this way. We didn't need that last dinner after all.

…

Early the next morning, Mom went to Cathy's place.

I started packing.

The apartment had come fully furnished, so there wasn't much to deal with. I only needed to take my personal belongings.

Mom didn't have much there either. Everything she'd brought fit into two large moving boxes. I arranged for an economy courier to pick them up and deliver them to Cathy's apartment the next day.

By early evening, I was done.

My landlord arrived with the new tenant, we completed the handover, and just like that, the apartment was no longer mine.

Not a single extra day wasted.

Later, sitting at the airport with my suitcase beside me, I opened my phone and saw a new post from Cathy.

The caption read, "Thanksgiving with Mom and Dad! Nothing better than a beautiful family dinner with the people you love."

She'd posted several photos. The three of them had even gone to a photography studio for a Thanksgiving-themed family portrait.

They looked like the perfect family.

Maybe they were. Just not mine.

A faint smile tugged at my lips. I unfriended all three of them, blocked their numbers, and put my phone away.

Then, my flight began boarding. I picked up my suitcase and walked down the jet bridge without looking back.

Goodbye, Mom. Goodbye, Dad. This time, for good.