Free Web NovelChapter 80: Chapter 80 Bitter Homecoming
Bella’s POV
The house looked different now, painted in fresh colors that made it seem like a completely different place from my childhood memories.
I stepped out of the car slowly, watching Hugo’s face light up as he lifted the children from their car seats. He seemed genuinely excited, especially now that his son was finally here with him.
The kids bounced around him, their energy infectious.
"What is this place, Mommy?" Zack asked, tugging on my sleeve.
Before I could answer, Hugo was already crouching down to his level.
"This is where your mother grew up. This is your grandparents’ house," he explained, his fingers gently brushing Zack’s chin.
I turned away, irritation building in my chest. The way the children looked at me with curious eyes made my stomach twist. I knew they would bombard me with questions soon, and I had no intention of encouraging their interest in these people.
The front door swung open, and Camilla stepped out wearing a flowing golden dress that caught the evening light. She had clearly spent hours preparing for tonight, and it showed.
This polished version of my stepsister looked nothing like the girl I remembered. The same girl who used to steal from neighbors, who rarely bathed, whose very presence gave my stepmother another reason to despise me.
Back then, even as a child with nothing to my name, I had still managed to keep myself clean and well-mannered. The neighbors would comment on how put-together I looked compared to Camilla, which only made my stepmother’s resentment burn hotter.
"Baby!" Camilla squealed, rushing toward us with open arms.
I stepped aside, watching as she threw herself at Hugo, wrapping her arms around his neck like she owned him.
Hugo’s smile flickered when his eyes found mine over her shoulder. He gave her an awkward pat on the back rather than returning her embrace properly.
"Thank you for making tonight so special. Your people did an amazing job fixing up the place," she gushed as she pulled back, her hands still resting on his chest.
Of course. I should have known Hugo was behind their sudden good fortune. The fresh paint, the new furniture visible through the windows - all his doing.
I understood now. People did crazy things for love. I just wished I didn’t have to care about my family anymore.
When I left this place years ago, my heart was so shattered that I actually prayed for karma to find them. Growing up, I was told that bad behavior would come back to haunt me eventually.
Apparently, karma had gotten lost on the way to their door. They seemed to be thriving, especially Camilla.
"If I had asked you to bring me the stars, you probably would have found a way," she continued, her fingers dancing playfully across Hugo’s chest before she turned to acknowledge me.
Her tone was light, but the message was clear. This visit was her idea. She had wanted me and the children to come back and face the family that had rejected me.
My eyes shifted to Hugo, and the pieces clicked into place. He had lied to me. This wasn’t about him wanting us to visit. This was about her pulling his strings.
I forced my lips into a smile, swallowing the bitter taste in my mouth. I refused to let her see that she had won again, that Hugo had successfully deceived me.
"And here are the little angels!" she announced, spinning toward my children.
Every muscle in my body went rigid as she dropped to their level and pulled all three of them into her arms.
I stood frozen, counting the seconds until she released them, my hands clenched into fists at my sides.
I caught Hugo’s eye and made sure he could see the anger burning there. I wanted him to know exactly what I thought of his betrayal.
"Come on, babies, let’s go inside!" Camilla called out, and my children followed her eagerly toward the house. freёwebnovel.com
I hung back, waiting for Hugo to fall into step beside me. The moment he did, I let my fury loose.
"You are such a liar," I hissed, not giving him a chance to form whatever pathetic excuse was already forming on his lips.
I rushed past him to catch up with my children.
The moment I crossed the threshold, the familiar scent of the house hit me like a physical blow. Memories I had buried came flooding back, threatening to drag me under.
For a terrifying moment, I felt like that powerless girl again, the one who had lived in this house during the worst years of her life.
I forced myself to breathe deeply, reminding myself that I was not that girl anymore. I was a successful woman who had built something meaningful with her life.
Just as I was steadying myself, footsteps echoed from the hallway.
My father emerged from his bedroom dressed in a crisp gray suit, looking well-rested and content. There was no sign of the man who had thrown his daughter out and never looked back.
When our eyes met, recognition flickered across his features immediately.
"Bella," he said, and that forced smile I remembered so well stretched across his face.
"Mommy, who is that man?" my children asked, pressing closer to my legs.
My father’s gaze dropped to them with something that might have been wonder.
"These are your children?" he asked softly, and I suspected his gentleness had everything to do with Hugo standing right beside me.
I couldn’t tell if this kindness was genuine or just another performance. Either way, he looked exactly the same as the day I left.
"Aren’t they beautiful?" Hugo answered for me, since I couldn’t force the words out.
"They certainly are," my father replied, crouching down with open arms. "Come here, kids. I’m your grandfather."
My chest tightened as I watched another one of these people get their hands on my children.
My innocent babies rushed into his embrace, giggling and bouncing with excitement at meeting someone new.
When I shot Hugo another murderous look, he finally seemed to understand that my patience had reached its breaking point.
"How about I give you three a tour of the house?" Hugo suggested quickly, herding the children away from the tension.
And then it was just me and my father, standing in the hallway where so many of my worst memories had been made.
