“Happy Birthday, Beatrice.”
Claire’s voice came through the phone, soft and cool, somehow dissolving the anger Nelson had been holding in all day.
He glanced toward the kitchen where his mother was still busy, then spoke in a calm tone, “Surprised you even remembered it’s her birthday.
Not coming by?”
Silence.
All sound suddenly disappeared from the line.
Nelson frowned and checked the screen—it still showed they were connected.
“Claire?”
He tried again, about to smooth things over with another line, when all he heard was the beeping of a disconnected call.
The call lasted just 29 seconds.
Nelson stared at the screen as it went dark, brows tightly furrowed like something was pressing down on his chest.
“Was that from Claire?
Why didn’t she say anything?” Beatrice came out of the kitchen with the last two dishes in hand.
Without a word, Nelson tossed his phone aside and reached out to help her set the table.
His face looked like someone owed him big time.
Beatrice glanced at him, wiped her hands, and sat down.
She picked up her phone, scrolling through the short call log.
Her brows lifted just a little.
She didn’t comment, just looked and put it back down.
“Not gonna call her back?” Nelson asked suddenly.
Beatrice had just picked up her spoon for soup, but hearing that, she simply put it down again.
“It’s dinner time.
Not a great time to call someone back.
Anyway, Claire probably called just to say happy birthday.
That’s enough.
What would I even say if I rang her back?”
That ended the conversation.
Nelson didn’t press further.
And just like that, the mood returned to its usual awkwardness—like two strangers sharing a meal by coincidence.
It wasn’t until she finished her soup that Beatrice finally spoke again, breaking the weird silence.
“I heard you and Claire are divorced?
So are you really set on marrying that girl from the Thompson family?
Picked a date yet?”
She fired off three questions in a row, leaving Nelson unsure of where to start.
So he went with the one he felt like answering.
“We only signed the papers.
Haven’t actually filed them yet.
His tone was almost childish, making Beatrice lift her gaze at him with a sharp look.
Still in the family registry?
Like she took their surname now?
“I know your grandfather pushed you into marrying Claire and you hated it.
Now that he’s gone, I’ve also figured it out—I shouldn’t have pressured you so much.
But if you’ve decided to divorce, then go finish the process.
No point dragging it out.”
Nelson kept his head down.
“I know what I’m doing.”
“Really?
If you knew what you were doing, you wouldn’t have sent Claire overseas and ignored her for three damn years!”
Beatrice couldn’t hold back anymore.
She didn’t continue ranting, though.
She forced herself to calm down, keeping her voice steady.
Their relationship had already been strained for years, and this whole marriage thing had almost torn them apart completely.
Start another fight now, and Nelson probably wouldn’t ever step foot in the Cooper household again.
Beatrice paused before speaking more gently, “This marriage with Claire—yeah, it was me and your grandfather who made the call.
But she never did anything wrong.
Alone overseas, who knows what she went through.
If you’re set on the divorce, at least make sure she’s taken care of.”
Nelson gave a careless “mm” like he didn’t really hear her.
Beatrice knew she couldn’t control him anymore, but watching him like this, she still simmered inside.
“As for your new fiancee from the Thompson family—fine, marry her if that’s what you want.
But let me be clear: I don’t like her.
Don’t bring her around me.”Just thinking about that woman’s fake smile gave her a headache.
She wasn’t as sweet as Claire, didn’t look half as good either—seriously, what was her son even thinking?
Beatrice sighed, gently pressing her temples.
Then—clack!
Nelson had already tossed his fork down.
His usually cool face was laced with a mocking edge.
“You never liked her.
My whole life, how many choices have I made just to please you guys?”
“You didn’t like Serena, so you wouldn’t even let her step into the Cooper house.
You adored Claire, so I had to marry her—just to keep you happy.
The engagement?
That was all you.
And the final say on who I should marry?
Also you.
Now even the divorce—do I need your approval for that too?”
Beatrice’s hands froze mid-air as a wave of shock spread across her face.
This was the first time her son had ever confronted her like that.
Even when he’d married Claire three years ago, clearly reluctant, he still went ahead with the paperwork, threw a wedding, and quietly let her go afterward.
Her headache hit harder now, and her voice came out tired, scratchy.
“Alright, alright—I’ll stay out of it.
The paperwork?
You and Claire decide.
Future wedding?
You and Serena talk it over.
As for me… if you ever need a figurehead to show up, just let me know.”
She stood up, clearly having lost her appetite.
Getting older meant every birthday felt like the last, and the less fuss, the easier it was to pretend age wasn’t creeping up on her.
Nelson was the only one left at the table.
Face expressionless, he pulled out his phone and found a number he was far too familiar with.
He hit call.
As usual, just like it had been for the past three years, the automated cold female voice reminded him that the number had been deactivated.
He sat in silence for a moment, barely blinking as the screen dimmed.
Then he snapped out of it, eyes dark, and made another call.
When Claire got the call from Beatrice, she hesitated.
Not because she was afraid, just—ugh, the voice alone annoyed her.
But then again, she thought, it wasn’t like she had any reason to avoid it.
If it was Nelson, she’d just hang up again.
She answered.
“Claire, honey, you’re back in the country?
Why haven’t you come see me yet?
Are you mad at me?” Beatrice’s voice carried a hint of playfulness.
“Beatrice, I’m sure you’ve heard by now—Nelson and I are divorced.
I’ve only been back a few days, and I’ve been tied up job hunting, so I hadn’t had a chance to visit.
But don’t worry, it’s not you I’m avoiding—I’d never be mad at you.”
And of course, she sweetened it a bit like any polite junior would: “Once I settle into work and get a break, I’ll drop by.
Is that alright?”
Her words clearly delighted Beatrice, who now spoke with a chuckle in her tone.
“You can’t promise and not show up, okay?
You better come see me when you can.”
“Of course, Beatrice.
I still crave your cooking,” Claire said, smile tugging at her lips.
But before she could hold it, the smile slipped.
Beatrice went on, “How about this, Claire: I’ll make it official and treat you like a daughter.
How’s that sound?”