He Canceled My Ticket for Her Again, So I Bought My Way Home Chapter 02

He Canceled My Ticket for Her Again, So I Bought My Way Home Chapter 02

As if she somehow sensed it, my mother’s call came moments later.

“Clara? Honey, what’s wrong?”

Her voice was gentle.

“When we talked earlier, you didn’t sound like yourself. I’ve been worried all day.”

I looked around the empty living room.

The silence felt unbearable.

Taking a shaky breath, I forced a smile she couldn’t see.

“I’m okay, Mom.”

I swallowed hard.

“I just miss you.”

“Then let your father and me come visit you.”

The concern in her voice nearly broke me.

The tears I’d barely managed to suppress surged back.

I hurriedly muted the call.

My shoulders shook.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop crying.

Seconds turned into minutes.

Finally, Mom’s worried voice came through again.

“Clara?”

“Sweetheart?”

“Are you there?”

I quickly unmuted myself.

“I’m here.”

A pause.

Then a quiet sigh.

“As long as you’re okay.”

Another pause.

“The turkey and ribs should arrive tomorrow. At least we’ll still get to spend Thanksgiving together in some way.”

My throat burned.

“Yeah.”

Then she said softly,

“Clara… if you’re unhappy, come home.”

“Your father and I will always be here.”

The moment the call ended, I broke down completely.

I cried until there were no tears left.

Then I wiped my face, picked up my phone, and dialed a number.

“Hello. Is this attorney Ethan Vance?”

I inhaled slowly.

“I’d like to discuss filing for divorce.”

After ending the call, I gathered all the documents I’d need.

For the first time in years, I went to bed without waiting for Julian to come home.

The next morning, frantic knocking jolted me awake.

I assumed Mom’s overnight Thanksgiving package had arrived.

I hurried to the door.

Instead, Julian stood outside holding a Chanel shopping bag.

“Why was the door locked?”

He smiled awkwardly.

“Look, I’m sorry about what I said yesterday.”

He handed me the bag.

“This is something you’ve wanted for a long time.”

“I drove out and got it last night.”

I took the bag.

He was right.

I had wanted it for months.

The funny thing was that he only bought me things when he needed forgiveness.

My wishes had become part of his apology routine.

Before I could say anything, Serena popped out from behind him.

The necklace around her neck instantly caught my eye.

It was nearly identical to mine.

Only much more expensive.

The sight stung.

“Clara!”

She beamed.

“I heard you two argued because of me.”

She nudged Julian playfully.

“So I made him drive all night to buy this for you.”

Then she shoved his arm.

“What are you waiting for? Put it on her already.”

Only then did Julian take the necklace from the bag and fasten it around my neck.

I didn’t stop him.

I just stared at Serena’s necklace.

So gifts weren’t reserved for apologies after all.

A voice suddenly called from outside.

“FedEx delivery for Clara Winslow! Overnight package, signature required!”

I snapped out of my thoughts.

“That’s me!”

Pushing past Serena, I hurried to the door.

The insulated box felt heavy in my arms.

I carried it into the kitchen and set it on the counter.

Just as I reached for the tape, I saw Julian pulling a pair of brand-new pink bunny slippers from the shoe cabinet.

Size six.

My size.

A memory surfaced instantly.

Last year, I’d begged him to buy those exact slippers.

He’d refused.

Said they were childish.

Too trendy.

Not my style.

Later, he’d claimed he’d purchased them for his mother.

But Eleanor Blackwood wore a size eight.

Not six.

The slippers had never been meant for his mother.

They’d been for Serena.

The realization stabbed straight through my chest.

I said nothing.

Instead, I peeled away the tape and opened the insulated container filled with my mother’s love.

The aroma hit instantly.

Smoked turkey.

Maple-glazed ribs.

The unmistakable scent of home.

For seven years, I’d dreamed about these flavors.

I carefully placed portions into the oven to reheat.

Soon, the rich smell drifted throughout the house.

Serena followed it like a curious kitten.

“Wow!”

Her eyes lit up.

“This smells amazing!”

She leaned over the counter.

“Clara, this smells exactly like the Thanksgiving dinners Julian gives me every year.”

She smiled innocently.

“Did he buy this for me too?”

My hands froze.

Every Thanksgiving I couldn’t make it home, my mother sent huge boxes of traditional holiday food.

I’d always rationed every bite.

Trying to make it last.

Julian constantly complained that he hated smoked meat.

Said maple-glazed ribs were too sweet.

He’d wrinkle his nose whenever he smelled them.

Told me not to eat so much.

Yet somehow, every year, most of the food disappeared within days.

Whenever I asked, he’d casually tell me I’d probably eaten it myself and forgotten.

I used to believe him.

Now I finally knew the truth.

I hadn’t forgotten.

He’d been taking my mother’s Thanksgiving meals and giving them to Serena.

Using my family’s love to make himself look thoughtful.

Slowly, I lifted my eyes to meet his.

“Julian.”

My voice was cold.

“Is there something you’d like to explain?”