Chapter 9

“What are you standing there for? Dump the water already!” Clara was now tucked in under the covers, thanks to Ethan’ careful attention, while Emma stood frozen at the doorway, as if lost in some ancient memory. Snapping back to reality with Ethan’s sharp tone still ringing in her ears, she bent down slightly— “Bring breakfast over tomorrow morning. Milk upsets Clara’s stomach.” “Ethan, don’t do this.” Clara reached out, gently tugging his sleeve. Her wide, glossy eyes were full of soft understanding. “Emma’s been running around all day. Let her go home and get some rest. I’m really fine now, there’s no need for that. She’s already done so much for me lately.” “What, she’s been giving you a hard time?” Ethan’s expression darkened. “No, no! Don’t get the wrong idea,” Clara quickly waved her hand, sounding all earnest and sweet. “Even if she… did say something, it was out of concern for me.” Catching that dramatic pause and Clara’s little performance, Emma nearly burst out laughing. Or crying. She couldn’t really tell. Was this really what her time had come down to? Getting dragged into manufactured drama like this? She let out a sigh in her mind. Well, whatever. At least she’d grown used to dealing with this kind of nonsense without showing it on her face. But seriously, if Ethan planned to spend his life with a girl like this… she felt sorry. Not just for him, but for Sophie too. Emma clenched her jaw, kept quiet, and turned to leave with the basin in hand, trying her best to stay steady on her tired legs— Splash—she almost bumped straight into someone. “Emma?!” “Mom?” The woman in the doorway was just past fifty, dressed in a camel coat that screamed elegance. It was Grace Brooks—Ethan’s mother. “What are you doing here, Mom?” Ethan’s brow furrowed as he let go of Clara’s hand. “What, I need a reason to show up now?” Grace shot him a sharp look. “You think I don’t know what you’re up to out there? Your little girlfriend had a miscarriage, but as the future mother-in-law, shouldn’t I at least check in and pretend to care?” Ethan clenched his jaw, his eyes drifting reluctantly toward Emma. The more stuff like this happened, the clearer it became—he really couldn’t stand her. Was it her hobby to stir up chaos wherever he went? “Emma. Of course it’s you again—” “Don’t start blaming everything on Emma!” Grace stepped protectively beside her, scowling at her son. “Your mess isn’t exactly a secret, you know. No one needs to tattle!” “Mom, come on.” Ethan reached out to gently guide her by the waist, trying to lead her outside. “Clara needs to sleep. Let’s talk out there.”"Don’t you dare!" Grace shot him a sharp glance. "Since I’m already here, might as well get my hands dirty. Emma, hand me that, will you—" Before anyone could react, she snatched the bowl of water from Emma and, with lightning speed, dumped it all over Clara. Clara froze, then suddenly burst into tears with a loud sob. Ethan and Emma stood there, totally stunned, while Grace stood proudly, hands on her hips, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips like she had just pulled off an epic win. *** "What the hell was that, Mom?!" Ethan dragged Grace downstairs to a nearby coffee shop. But judging by how fired up she was, he figured giving her caffeine now might actually push her into cardiac arrest. "What was that? I should be asking you that! Your dad owed a lot to Emma's father when he was alive, you know that? Our families go way back. And her dad just passed away not even a week ago—" "I don’t need anyone telling me how to live my life." Ethan frowned, shoved his chair back, clearly wanting to leave. "I know, I know... you’ve always hated being forced into those ‘perfect’ rich family setups. You want to love who you love and build everything on your own terms, I get it. And Sophie—she was a good girl, she really was, but she’s… she’s gone now. Even if you don’t have feelings for Emma, that doesn’t mean you can just bring home someone like—" "I didn’t ‘just find’ Clara. This isn’t some phase." Grace pursed her lips. "Ethan, trust your mother on this one. Only women can really see through other women. That Clara girl, aside from vaguely resembling Sophie—" "Enough..." Ethan’s shoulders tensed. He looked straight at her. "You don’t know everything that’s going on." "Fine. I’m done arguing." Her spirit suddenly sank as she grabbed her bag and turned to leave. But before walking away, she tossed one last sentence over her shoulder— "If you let Emma slip away, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life." Ethan sat there, head spinning. His mom's words echoed in his mind, loud and messy. He kept telling himself—if it’s not Sophie, then it doesn’t matter who it is. At least Clara had eyes that sorta reminded him of Sophie. But Emma... Ethan didn’t even understand his own feelings anymore. Every time he pictured Emma’s calm face, that quiet voice, the way she kept her pride even when things got ugly between them—he couldn’t shake off that weird twist in his chest. Something like stubbornness. Maybe even... hope.