Claire was momentarily stunned by those words.
She stood there, frozen, carefully trying to figure out how to say no without sounding harsh.
“Beatrice, I know you’ve always cared about me, but…”
Before Claire could finish, Beatrice cut her off sharply.
“Claire, sweetheart, I know you still blame us deep down, and I get it.
But can you not shut me out so fast?
As for this whole godmother thing…
let’s just wait till the divorce is finalized, okay?
It’s not like you two are officially over yet.
Just calling me ‘Mom’ for now—it’s not too much, right?”
Her tone had softened at the end—careful, coaxing, almost pleading.
It was the kind of voice that made it hard to say no.
But Claire’s heart just wasn’t in it.
She didn’t reply.
She didn’t want to hurt her, but she couldn’t force herself either.
So she simply stayed silent.
Not pushing any further, Beatrice still couldn’t hide her disappointment, her voice losing its earlier cheer.
“Alright, Claire, maybe I wasn’t thinking it through.
If you really don’t want to, it’s fine.
I just hope you’ll keep it in mind.
You know I see you as my own daughter.
Don’t be so quick to turn me down, okay?
Once everything’s done, you can give me an answer then.”
Truth was, they both already knew the answer.
But no one really wanted to face it just yet—delaying it was just easier.
Beatrice felt more than a little let down.
She was honestly heartbroken.
Her actual son had turned against her like they were strangers.
And now the girl she’d watched grow up was probably about to walk out of her life too.
That “godmother” idea?
It was just her way of holding onto some kind of connection, so Claire wouldn’t completely disappear one day.
So they’d still have some excuse to keep in touch.
But life rarely plays out the way we want it to.
After hanging up, Claire sat quietly, staring blankly out the window into the night.
The apartment she was in—Adrian had bought it for her.
Not too big or too small—just right for living on her own without the echoing emptiness of a huge place.
She must’ve zoned out hard, because she didn’t even notice when Adrian came in.
He had to call her name a couple times, even fake a few loud coughs and stir up some commotion before she snapped out of it.
Even after realizing she wasn’t alone anymore, Claire still looked pretty out of it—her eyes distant, a little dull.
Adrian couldn’t help but scold her.
His face was unusually serious, eyebrows tight.
“Good thing it was me walking in.
What if it’d been someone shady?
You wouldn’t even notice if someone broke in.”
Claire shrugged, dragging her slippers across the floor as she stepped down from the balcony and headed to the fridge.
She grabbed two bottles of water, tossing one to him.
He didn’t take it, still not dropping that stern look.
“Come on, Adrian…” she whined a little, voice soft and pleading.
He gave her a side glance, scoffing a little at her pitiful look, then sighed.
“Fine.
But make sure this doesn’t happen again.”
She nodded quickly.
“Got it.”
His tone gentled but stayed serious.
“I wish I could tell you to relax and stop staying on edge all the time.
But Debbie, you’ve been through too much.
This is still Jadewick, and Nelson hasn’t even gone through with the paperwork yet.
Who knows what’s on his mind?
Spacing out like that at home might pass, but what if it happens outside?”
“I know, Adrian.
It won’t happen again.”
She lowered her gaze, and in that moment, something inside her cleared up.
Before, she’d thought maybe she should accept Beatrice’s offer.
After all, back in Jadewick, Grandpa Cooper and Beatrice had treated her kindly—it wasn’t something she could just forget.
She’d even made sure to send her a birthday message, half out of gratitude, half not wanting to seem heartless.
But now, she had her answer.Cutting ties with the Thompsons didn’t mean she had to act like everything in the past never happened.
Pretending not to know them would just make the Thompsons—and Nelson—seem more important than they actually were.
She agreed to Beatrice’s suggestion because Beatrice mattered, and, well, the idea might tick Nelson off a bit too, which was a bonus.
But if she actually went through with it…
wouldn’t that mean she’d always be tied to Nelson, somehow?
The scars on her body were still there—why on earth should he have any presence in her future?
If she really had to call Nelson “brother” one day, the one feeling grossed out wouldn’t be him.
It’d be her.
Claire’s expression returned to normal, but her eyes held a subtle chill.
She flat-out shut Beatrice’s idea down.
Adrian didn’t know what was on her mind, but her mood was obviously off.
And honestly, he got it.
The guy she grew up with got swept up by some picture-perfect fairy tale, and now he looked at her like she was the enemy.
Who would be in a good mood going back to a place full of those memories?
Adrian spun his phone around in his hand, cheek resting on his palm with that usual laid-back vibe.
“Debbie, want me to take you out for a little fun?”
Claire turned to him.
“Right now?”
It was already 11 PM.
At this hour, they were either hitting a night market or a club.
Obviously, the latter wasn’t something Adrian would suggest himself, so she decided to beat him to it.
“I wanna go to Bar N°7.”
“Nope.”
As expected, Adrian turned her down right away.
Claire twisted open a water bottle, took a leisurely sip, and said calmly, “Well, if you won’t take me, I’ll go on my own.
I’m legal now.
Seeing what a bar’s like won’t get me kicked out.”
Adrian wanted to slap himself.
Why’d he even bring up going out at all in the middle of the night?!
But then he looked up into her smiling eyes, and all his resistance dissolved.
He didn’t stand a chance.
“If Oliver finds out, you better tell him this was all your idea.
Don’t drag me into it.”
Bar N°7.
Calling it just a bar didn’t really do it justice.
It was more like Jadewick’s ultimate money pit.
The kind of place where regular folks came to blow everything they had, and where rich kids from every generation rolled in looking for kicks.
You name it, they had it—party fun in the open, shady dealings behind the scenes.
They’d barely pulled up in front of the club when Adrian quickly laid down the rules.
“Stick with me once we’re in.
Don’t go running off.”
Claire hopped out of the car and felt another jacket get draped over her shoulders.
She gave Adrian a side-eye but still slipped her arm through his.
“Got it.
I’m not a kid.
Besides, my dress isn’t even that revealing.
Do I really need the jacket?”
Adrian didn’t bother debating.
“Just wear it.”
They walked in side by side, unaware that someone from a parked car nearby had already snapped a photo of them and sent it off—with a message attached:
“Hey Nelson, doesn’t that girl kinda look like your wife?
Gotta admit, she’s got a killer figure.
Heard you’re getting divorced…
mind if I make a move?”