Chapter 135
~ Clinton ~
The weekend arrived wrapped in a crisp New York morning, the kind that promised fresh beginnings even when the shadows of the week still lingered in my chest. I drove toward the family estate with a strange mix of anticipation and dread twisting in my stomach. I was going to pick Annie up for our long-overdue outing, but the closer I got to those familiar wrought-iron gates, the more I prayed I wouldn’t run into my father face to face. The last thing I needed today was another confrontation that would leave raw and distracted.
The mont I stepped inside the grand foyer, the familiar scent of polished wood and fresh flowers greeted like an old, complicated mory. Cleo, the new assistant housekeeper, appeared almost instantly, her warm smile cutting through the tension I carried.
"Good morning, Mr. Clinton," she greeted with her usual respectful cheer.
"Good morning, Cleo," I replied, forcing a small smile as I scanned the wide hallway. "Is my father around?"
"Yes, but he’s still in bed," she answered smoothly. "He had a late night."
Relief washed over like cool water. "Okay. Where’s Trudy?"
"In the kitchen with Miss Annie, her daughter," Cleo said, nodding toward the back of the house.
I thanked her and declined her offer to fetch them, preferring to walk in unannounced. As I made my way down the corridor, soft giggles and bright laughter floated toward , wrapping around the quiet morning like sunlight. The sound pulled a reluctant smile from my lips before I even reached the kitchen doorway.
When I stepped inside, the scene ward sothing deep in my chest. Trudy stood at the stove, stirring a pot with practiced ease, while Annie sat perched on the marble kitchen island, legs folded beneath her like a carefree girl instead of the accomplished artist she had beco. Her animated voice filled the space.
"The mosquitoes in New Orleans have nothing on the ones here, especially down by the bayou, Mom. It was terrible—like they had a personal vendetta against ," Annie complained dramatically, making Trudy burst into laughter.
They still hadn’t noticed .
"Hello, ladies," I said, leaning against the doorfra. "Hope I’m not interrupting anything."
Both heads snapped toward .
"Clint!" Annie squealed, pure joy lighting up her face. She jumped down from the island in one fluid motion and raced across the kitchen, launching herself at . Her arms wrapped around my neck while her legs hooked around my waist in a fierce, enthusiastic hug that nearly knocked back a step.
"Annie-bell," I chuckled, instinctively catching her and holding her close. Her embrace was tight and warm, carrying the weight of years apart. The last ti we’d hugged like this, we had both been teenagers—carefree and untouched by the complications that now shadowed my life. I rubbed slow circles on her back, glancing over her shoulder at Trudy, who watched us with the widest, most satisfied smile I’d seen in a long ti.
"If I say I didn’t miss you, I’d definitely be lying," Annie murmured against my shoulder, "because I fucking missed you, Clint."
"I missed you too, Annie-bell," I replied, the words genuine even as other, more complicated feelings stirred beneath them. When she finally slid down to her feet, she stayed close, grinning up at with that familiar spark in her eyes.
I turned to Trudy. "Hey, Trudy. Good morning."
"Good morning, Clinton. I’m surprised you ca this early," she said, wiping her hands on a dish towel.
"I know... I was eager to see both of you," I admitted, glancing back at Annie, who was still beaming. "Especially since you’ve been gone in New Orleans for so long."
"Look at you, Annie-bell," I said, turning fully toward her now. She had grown into a striking young woman—slim, feminine figure, milk-fair skin that glowed under the kitchen lights, and a pretty face that was genuinely a pleasure to look at. Yet even as I complinted her, a quiet truth settled in my chest: she was beautiful, but she wasn’t Octavia. The woman I was still deeply in love with occupied too much space in my heart for anyone else to fully take root. It didn’t feel entirely right, but it was how I felt in that mont.
"New Orleans did you well," I said sincerely. "You look so pretty, Annie."
She glanced down, a soft blush coloring her cheeks. "Thank you, Clint."
"My pleasure."
"Let guess," Annie said, eyes narrowing playfully as she glanced at her mother. "You saw my Instagram picture and imdiately figured out I was the surprise Mom was teasing you about."
"Yep," I nodded with a grin.
"Maybe I should’ve been more cryptic with my return news," she sighed dramatically, hopping back onto the kitchen island.
"How have you been since you got back?" I asked, genuinely interested.
"Good... New York still looks and feels the sa, but I got hosick. That’s one of the main reasons I ca back," she shrugged, though her eyes held a deeper layer of emotion.
"I’m glad you’re here," I told her.
" too," she smiled, the expression soft and real.
"So, I ca to take you out," I announced.
"Really?" Annie’s eyes widened with pleasant surprise as she looked between and her mother, who was still smiling warmly.
"Yeah. Just get ready and et back here so we can head out together."
She didn’t need to be told twice. She jumped down from the island with renewed energy. "Don’t move an inch from this kitchen!" she ordered playfully.
"Yes, ma’am," I saluted with mock seriousness, and she raced out of the room, her laughter trailing behind her.
"She seems genuinely happy that you’re here and that you two are going out," Trudy observed once Annie disappeared, stirring the pot again.
"I know," I said, walking over to peer into the simring chili. The rich, spicy aroma filled the kitchen, comforting and familiar. "The food slls amazing. What are you cooking?"
"Chili," Trudy replied. "It’ll go perfectly with the tacos I’m making after."
"Can I get so to go when I bring Annie back?" I asked, still inhaling the scent.
"Sure, of course. I’ll pack you plenty—you look like you’ve lost so weight," she said, giving a quick up-and-down glance. "Still handso, but definitely thinner."
I chuckled. "Co on, Trudy. I haven’t lost weight. I’m still the sa."
"Are you the mirror, or are the people around you the mirror?" she asked dryly, raising an eyebrow.
I held up my hands in surrender, laughing softly.
"Have you seen your father?" she asked, bustling around the kitchen as she wiped her hands.
"No. Cleo said he’s still in bed."
"Okay. I thought he’d be awake by now." She paused, then added carefully, "I spoke with him the other day about you not staying here anymore and how things were left between you two..."
"I shouldn’t have brought it up—" she started.
"Wait, let finish," she said gently. "I understand that sotis children and parents have misunderstandings. It happens with and Annie or Ayanna too, but—"
"No, Trudy," I cut in, my voice firr than I intended. "Yours with Annie or Ayanna is different from mine with my dad. You don’t know what he’s done all these years. He’s diabolical. Leaving the estate was my way of telling him—and everyone—that I’m done. I’m just... done with him and his behavior."
"What bad behavior?" Trudy asked, curiosity and concern mingling in her tone.
"Does it matter to talk about it?" I asked wearily.
"Yes, it matters," she pressed.
"Well, I don’t want to talk about it right now," I said quietly.
Before Trudy could respond, Annie burst back into the kitchen, now fully dressed and glowing. Her makeup was subtle but flattering, and her hair fell loose in soft waves that frad her face beautifully. She looked radiant.
"I’m back!" she sang, doing a little twirl that made her dress swirl around her legs.
"Wow, Annie, you look so pretty," I complinted sincerely.
"Thank you," she grinned, blushing again as she spun once more for effect.
"So, where are we going?" she asked, eyes sparkling with excitent.
"A restaurant in the Hamptons called Juniper’s," I replied.
"Okay, but I hope their food is actually good," she said, tilting her head.
"I believe it is. I saw great reviews on their website—excellent service too."
"That ans you haven’t been there before," she teased.
"I haven’t, but I trust the recomndations. Ready?"
"Then why are we still standing here? Let’s go!" she declared, grabbing her small bag.
"Okay," I laughed.
"Bye, Mom," Annie called as she headed for the door.
"Bye, honey. Have fun with Clinton," Trudy replied warmly.
"I’ll bring her back ho safely, Trudy," I promised.
"I know. Have fun too," she said with a knowing smile.
As we stepped out of the mansion into the bright morning light, I spotted Kieran a short distance away, leaning against a stone pillar and smoking. He turned in my direction, and our eyes t for a long, silent beat. He took two slow drags from his cigarette, exhaled a plu of smoke, then looked away without a word, continuing as if I were invisible.
"Clint," Annie called from the driveway, already waiting by the car.
"Sorry," I apologized, hurrying over. I unlocked the passenger door and held it open for her.
"It’s alright," she smiled brightly and slid inside.
I glanced back toward where Kieran had been standing, but he was gone—lted into the shadows like he always did. Shaking off the unease, I climbed into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and pulled away from the estate. My mind, however, stayed behind—lingering on Kieran, on that cold phone call, and on the dangerous web of secrets that still threatened to pull under.
User Comments
0 comments from readers