Chapter 5 He Always Took Their Side

The room was scattered with broken glass, and the wedding photo that should have hung on the wall was now in ruins. Lucas was stomping happily on it, shouting crude words as he did. Elise looked over with a defiant smile, clearly not taking Annabelle seriously. She turned to her son and said, "Lucas, do you still want Daddy? If you do, do what I just told you." Lucas nodded obediently. Without hesitation, he flicked the lighter in his hand and brought the flame to the diary he was holding. Annabelle's eyes widened in horror. "No!" she shouted. She frantically spun her wheelchair to catch up with him, but Lucas just darted around the room as if toying with her. Sweat poured down her forehead as she chased him. By the time she finally caught up, the diary had already been reduced to a pile of ashes. Annabelle's hands trembled as she carefully picked up the only remaining corner of the burnt pages. She couldn't hold back her sobs. That diary had been her parents' only keepsake. It recorded their short lives and held the precious words that had brought her comfort through all those lonely years. She had caught glimpses of her parents' lives through the pages of that diary. In all those lonely years, their words had been her only comfort. After marrying Samuel, she brought the diary with her to their home, intending to keep it locked safely in a cabinet. Samuel had assured her it wasn't necessary, insisting that no one would dare touch it as long as he was around. However, his promise meant nothing. Now, he stood by while others barged into her space and destroyed the only thing she had left to remember her parents by. She gripped the scrap of paper that was barely half the size of her palm and looked at Elise with bloodshot eyes. "Elise! Is this how you raise your child? How could you let your child destroy someone else's belongings without permission? Have you ever taught him basic manners?" Elise, who had looked so smug just moments ago, now had tears brimming in her eyes. "Lucas never had a father growing up. I raised him all by myself. You can blame me, but he's just a kid. Isn't what you said a little too harsh? I'm sorry, alright? Isn't that enough?" Annabelle frowned at her, but then suddenly sensed someone watching. She turned her head and saw Samuel walking over with a grim expression. She froze for a moment as he walked up to her. "Annabelle, he's just a kid. Why do you keep making a big deal out of everything? Elise already compromised and gave you the room. What more do you want? Do you have to drive them out completely before you're satisfied?" he asked. The look of frustration on his face sent a sharp pain through her chest. She held out the last remaining scrap of the diary, struggling to hold back her sobs. "Samuel, do you even know what he just—" Before she could finish, Samuel slapped the paper from her hand. His eyes brimmed with irritation as he said, "It's just a burned notebook. Boys at his age are bound to be a little mischievous. Do you really have to blow this out of proportion? I'll buy you a hundred, or even a thousand if that's what you want." Annabelle watched the paper flutter to the floor, where Elise's heel came down and crushed it underfoot. At that moment, something inside her gave out. She let out a bitter laugh and slumped back into her wheelchair. "That's enough. I'm sorry. It was my fault." Samuel, who had still been seething, faltered. Her wounded expression pierced something deep in him. Annabelle didn't even look at him. She just gazed quietly out the window. Yet somehow, he saw a glimpse of something broken in her lifeless eyes. A pang of guilt struck his chest. Just as he was about to say something or offer a few words of comfort, Lucas interrupted, asking, "Sam, can I play with this?" Lucas held a gift box in his hands. Samuel assumed it was empty and casually told him to go ahead. However, Annabelle knew what was inside. She quickly spoke up. "No, not that one."