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After a long, tense silence that seemed to stretch between them, Vincent finally broke eye contact. “Whatever,” he said dismissively, his tone making it clear the discussion was over.
With that, he turned and headed upstairs without another glance.
Scarlett watched his retreating figure, her own voice cold and flat in response. “Fine.”
She waited a few moments, gathering her composure, before going upstairs to wake Vanessa.
Once Vanessa was dressed and ready, mother and daughter came back downstairs together. Vincent was already there, fully dressed and waiting by the door, his posture rigid.
“Good morning, Dad!” Vanessa chirped cheerfully, seemingly oblivious to the tension between her parents.
Vincent gave a brief, almost imperceptible nod. Then his eyes shifted to Scarlett. “It’s pouring outside,” he stated. “I’ll drive you both.”
Scarlett didn’t look at him, focusing instead on helping Vanessa into her little yellow raincoat. “No need,” she refused coolly. “I’ll drive us myself.”
Vincent didn’t press the matter further, though the line of his jaw tightened slightly.
After securing Vanessa’s raincoat, Scarlett took Vanessa’s small hand and turned toward the door.
But Vanessa tugged at her fingers pleadingly. “Mom, the rain’s too heavy,” she whined. “Can you carry me?”
Scarlett looked down at Vanessa’s expectant, upturned face and felt her resistance melt away. “Alright,” she relented.
She lifted Vanessa into her arms, then awkwardly tucked the umbrella under her chin while trying to maintain her grip. Just as she was about to step out into the downpour, Vincent suddenly reached over and took the umbrella handle from her. “Let me hold it,” he said simply.
In that moment, Scarlett’s eyes stung with unshed tears, though she quickly blinked them away.
Memories came flooding back-countless times she’d had to manage everything completely alone.
Children get
sick so easily. When Vanessa was younger and fell ill, and she couldn’t reach Vincent, she’d carry their daughter to the hospital by herself, no matter the hour or weather.
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She’d lost count of how many times she’d made that anxious trip, sometimes in weather just like this, arriving at the emergency room completely drenched and exhausted.
Back then, she’d desperately wished Vincent would stand by her side, to hear him say, “Don’t worry, I’m here.”
But he was always too busy, always unreachable, always somewhere else when she needed him
most.
So, gradually, she learned to handle everything herself, building walls around her heart with each lonely journey.
But just now, Vincent had taken the umbrella from her and said he’d hold it.
All those long-held wishes had suddenly come true in this moment, yet all Scarlett felt was a fresh wave of pain-nothing else. The gesture felt too little, too late.
If only he had done this sooner, shown this small consideration years ago, perhaps she wouldn’t have given up on him completely.
As they stepped into the relentless rain, Vincent kept the umbrella carefully tilted toward Scarlett and the child in her arms.
But she knew with painful certainty he wasn’t doing it for her—he was doing it for Vanessa, ensuring his daughter stayed dry.
That was fine, she told herself. At least he was good to their daughter. At least he cared about
Vanessa.
At the gate, Scarlett settled Vanessa into the back seat of her car. As she leaned in to buckle the seatbelt, Vincent kept the umbrella positioned over her, shielding her from the worst of the downpour.
Once the door was safely closed, Scarlett moved around to the driver’s side.
She reached to close her door but noticed Vincent still standing there with the umbrella. She looked up at him, rainwater clinging to her lashes, and said quietly, “Thank you.”
Vincent’s brow furrowed slightly at her words, as if her gratitude puzzled or annoyed him. He didn’t respond verbally, but noticing Scarlett’s shoulder was still damp, he shrugged off his own jacket and placed it on her lap. “Don’t catch a cold,” he said, his voice low.
Scarlett was momentarily stunned by the gesture. She picked up the jacket, its fabric still warm from his body, about to return it, but Vincent was already walking away toward his own car, umbrella in hand, not giving her the chance to refuse.
Scarlett didn’t insist. The rain was still falling heavily, after all. She simply tossed the jacket onto
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the passenger seat.
Finished
As they pulled away from the curb, Scarlett asked Vanessa in the back, “What would you like to eat later?”
Vanessa replied eagerly, “I want those pancakes from the shop near kindergarten! And a yogurt!”
Scarlett nodded, checking the rearview mirror. “Alright.”
Vincent sat in his own car, watching Scarlett’s vehicle disappear into the gray, rainy distance before finally looking away and starting his own engine.
*****
That afternoon, Scarlett finished work at five thirty. By the time she navigated through the wet streets to the kindergarten, it was already six o’clock.
The rain hadn’t stopped all day, a steady, dreary downpour. When she arrived at the school gate, she saw Vanessa waiting outside with her teacher under the shelter of the entrance awning.
Vanessa spotted Scarlett immediately, jumped up excitedly with her little backpack bouncing, and called out, “Mom!”
Scarlett offered her a small, tight smile but didn’t step forward to pick her up or open her arms for an embrace.
Noticing Scarlett’s hesitation, Vanessa began to walk out herself into the light rain, but Scarlett stopped her gently. “Vanessa, I’m here to pick up Clara today. Could you wait a little longer? Lily will be here soon to take you back to Ravenshade Villa.”
Vanessa’s face fell instantly, her bright expression collapsing. Her eyes welled with tears, shimmering with hurt and confusion. “What about Dad?” she asked, her voice small.
Seeing Vanessa’s eyes redden and her lower lip tremble, Scarlett felt a sharp, guilty pang in her chest. She quickly averted her gaze, unable to bear the sight, and explained softly, “Dad’s working late tonight.”
Tears began rolling down Vanessa’s cheeks, mingling with the raindrops. “Can’t I go to Grandma’s house with Clara?” she asked, her voice trembling with the effort not to sob.
Scarlett still couldn’t bring herself to look directly at her, forcing out the difficult words. “Not today, sweetheart. You don’t want to go; I don’t want to force you.”
Vanessa clutched the straps of her backpack anxiously, her small knuckles white. “But Mom, I…” she began, her voice choked.
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Just then, Clara’s bright, clear voice rang out from behind Vanessa. “Auntie!”
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Clara ran up to the gate, her little rain boots splashing in puddles. Her face lit up with a radiant smile when she saw Scarlett. She turned to the teacher holding the umbrella and announced proudly, “Ms. Monroe, this is my aunt! She’s picking me up today!”
Then Clara turned to the other children standing under their umbrellas, declaring happily to anyone who would listen, “This is my aunt! She’s a pediatric surgeon! She’s amazing! I really, really like her!”
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