Chapter 3
Third Person’s POV Glass shards covered the floor. The once-beautiful wedding photo that used to hang on the wall was now shattered and torn beyond repair. Matthew was stomping on her face in the picture, laughing as he did, spewing crude words that no child his age should even know. Across the room, Gabrielle turned her head with a smirk, clearly enjoying the scene. Her eyes locked on Clarissa with a mocking glint. She didn’t see her as a threat, barely even as a person. Then she turned to her son and gave him instructions like she was coaching a performance. “Matthew, do you want Daddy or not? If you do, then do exactly what Mommy just told you.” The boy nodded like an obedient little soldier. Then, without a second of hesitation, he picked up a lighter and flicked it on, holding it to a diary clutched in his other hand. Clarissa’s heart seized. “No! Don’t. Don’t do that!” she shouted, panic surging through her chest. Frantically, she pushed her wheelchair forward, chasing him down the room. But Matthew thought it was a game. He ran in circles, always just out of reach, laughing like this was all some kind of sick fun. By the time she finally caught up, the damage was done. The diary had burned to nothing—just a pile of gray ash. Clarissa’s hands trembled as she picked up the one tiny, half-burnt corner left. Her shoulders shook with sobs she could no longer hold back. That diary had been the only thing her parents left her. It documented their short lives, their hopes, and their love. It was her only connection to them. For years, in the lonely silence of her life, she’d read it to feel less alone. When she married Norris, she had brought it with her to this house. She wanted to lock it away, but he told her not to worry. “As long as I’m here, no one would dare touch it,” he had said. But he didn’t keep his word. Now, not only had someone touched it—they’d destroyed it. And he’d let them walk in and do it. Clarissa clutched the tiny scrap of paper tightly in her palm. Her voice was raw with fury and heartbreak as she shouted, “Gabrielle! Is this how you raise your son? Teaching him to destroy things that don’t belong to him? Did you ever teach him what basic respect even means?” For a moment, Gabrielle looked taken aback. Her eyes reddened, and tears welled up. “Matthew never had a father growing up. I raised him alone. Blame me if you want, but he’s still just a child. You don’t have to be so harsh. I’m sorry, okay? I’ll apologize.” Clarissa frowned, unsure how to respond, but then she felt a heavy gaze. She turned and saw Norris standing at the doorway, his expression dark. He strode toward them, face set in a deep scowl. “Clarissa,” he said, “he’s a child. Why do you keep picking fights with him? Gabrielle even agreed to give you the room back. Isn’t that enough? Do you really have to drive them out to feel satisfied?” His voice was sharp, edged with frustration. Clarissa’s heart clenched. She held up the charred piece of the diary with shaking hands, her voice breaking as she tried to explain, “Norris, do you even know what he—” Before she could finish, he slapped the burnt scrap from her hand. “It’s just a notebook, Clarissa!” he snapped. “What boy his age isn’t a little wild? Must you make such a big deal out of it? If you want, I’ll buy you a hundred more, a thousand! Will that finally be enough for you?” She stared at the paper fragment as it fluttered to the ground, only to be stepped on by Gabrielle’s heel. That was it. Something in her finally gave way. A hollow laugh escaped her lips, bitter and worn out. She let her body fall back in the wheelchair like all the fight had drained from her. “Fine,” she said quietly. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s my fault.” For a second, Norris’s expression shifted. Her defeated tone hit him in a place he didn’t expect, and it stung. Seeing despair in her lifeless eyes, he opened his mouth, maybe to apologize, but before he could speak, Matthew cut in. “Uncle Norris, can I play with this?” the boy asked, holding up a small gift box in his hands. Norris glanced over, assuming it was just some empty box lying around. “Sure,” he said. “Go ahead.” But Clarissa knew exactly what was inside. Her eyes widened in panic, and she quickly shouted, “No! You can’t touch that!” Third Person’s POV Just when a trace of guilt had begun to creep into Norris’s heart, Clarissa’s voice made him frown again. “It’s just an old box. Do you have to be so petty, Clarissa? Or is it that you just can’t stand anything he does?” Clarissa froze. His words hit her like a slap. She stared at him, disbelief washing over her. It hit her then. He truly didn’t remember what was in that box. Her hand, which had reached out instinctively, lingered midair. She hesitated for a long moment, thinking maybe she should remind him about the ring. But before she could say anything, Matthew cut in. “Uncle Norris, I really want this box. Can I throw out what’s inside?” Already irritated by Clarissa, Norris didn’t even think twice. He just wanted to shut this whole scene down. “Sure. Toss it if you want.” Clarissa’s heart sank when she saw Matthew pull out the ring. Her chest tightened, and she instinctively tried to reach for it. But Matthew was already walking toward the fireplace, just about to toss it in, when he paused. He looked back at his mother. “Mom, this ring’s kind of pretty. Are you sure we should throw it away?” Gabrielle’s face stiffened. She didn’t dare look at Norris. Instead, she blinked rapidly, silently urging her son to go through with it. Norris’s expression shifted slightly when he heard the word “ring.” He turned to look, only to see it fall into the fire. In a flash, the flames swallowed it. His gaze snapped to Clarissa. He opened his mouth several times, trying to speak, but the look in her eyes left him hollow. Words stuck in his throat. Clarissa didn’t look at him. Without a word, she wheeled herself to the fireplace and reached in, trying to retrieve the ring. The fire had only just started and wasn’t roaring yet, but it was still hot enough to make her flinch and hiss from the pain. Norris’s heart twisted at the sight. He instinctively stepped forward, ready to pull her back, but Gabrielle got there first. She hurried over with her son in her arms, gave him a few heavy pats, then turned teary eyes on Clarissa. “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I didn’t teach him better. Please, let me apologize on his behalf. Just tell me how much the ring costs. I’ll save up and buy you a new one.” Clarissa stared at her blankly, the expression on Gabrielle’s face utterly fake to her. Not getting a response, Gabrielle glanced at Norris from the corner of her eye and saw his attention still fixed on Clarissa. Her gaze hardened. Then, with a thud, she dropped to her knees. “It’s all my fault. Please, Clarissa, forgive me. If you’re still mad, then hit me. Go ahead!” She grabbed Clarissa’s hand and slapped it against her own face. Clarissa tried to pull back, but Gabrielle wouldn’t let go. A loud smack echoed through the room. Gabrielle’s cheek reddened immediately. Not satisfied, she let go of Clarissa’s hand and began slapping herself, over and over, crying and apologizing between each blow. Clarissa frowned at the absurd scene. She opened her mouth to tell her to stop the act, but before she could speak, Norris shoved her away. Her wheelchair wasn’t locked, so the sudden force sent her sliding backward. The chair slammed into the desk behind her, and she tumbled out, landing hard on the floor. Norris hadn’t meant to push her that hard. His eyes widened in shock, and he started toward her, but Gabrielle caught his arm first. He turned to see her swollen, tear-streaked face. Something in him froze. Without saying anything, he pulled her into his arms protectively. Then he looked down at Clarissa coldly. “Clarissa, Gabrielle already apologized. Why won’t you let it go? It’s just a ring. Did you really have to humiliate her by trying to fish it out of the fire?” Clarissa lay awkwardly on the floor, her burned hand pressed against the wooden floorboards. Pain shot through her, leaving her speechless. Her legs were numb, making it useless. Still, she tried to lift herself multiple times, only to collapse again and again. The helplessness brought tears to her eyes. Norris hesitated, guilt flickering in his eyes. He took a step forward to help, but Matthew quickly grabbed his hand. “Uncle Norris, it’s my fault. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make her mad.” His small hand tugged gently, and that was all it took for Norris’s heart to soften. He steeled himself once again against Clarissa. “If you love making life difficult for others so much,” he said coldly, “then you can pick yourself up off the floor. Let’s see how long you can keep playing the victim.” Clarissa stared at him as he stepped right on their torn wedding photo, grinding it under his shoe. It felt like he was stepping on her heart, crushing what little hope she had left. In that moment, something inside her broke. She didn’t want to love him anymore. Not even a little.