Chapter 7 Investigator Scott 2

After Clint went inside, I quickly discharged Ria and Scott.

I stormed into the house, ready to confront Clara for what she had done. I was just steps away from the hallway when Clara emerged from the guest room carrying her overnight bag. She stopped dead in her tracks, her face twisted in disgust.

"Where are you off to?!" I demanded, stepping into her path.

"Oh, stop pretending! You wanted me out of here from the second I arrived!" Clara snapped, making a move to brush past me.

I reached out and grabbed her wrist firmly. "Stop this right now, Clara! Tell me what the hell is wrong with you!"

Clara scoffed bitterly, glaring at me. "How stupid have I been?! All this time, I actually believed that you sending us money was an act of love! God, I must be fucking dumb!"

"Clara—"

"Don't!" she screamed, shoving my hand off. "Well, don't bother worrying about Mother visiting either! I just sent her the stupid secret you've been hiding from all of us, Maya!"

"What?!" My heart sank. "What the fuck are you talking about, Clara?!"

"Stop acting innocent, Maya!" Clara yelled, her voice trembling with anger. "How could you make that innocent man grieve like that?! You constantly make fun of his condition! How cruel can you be?!"

"What the fuck are you talking about?!"

Before I could finish, Clara unlocked her phone and shoved the screen inches from my face.

"Care to explain what the hell is going on here, Maya?!"

I snatched the phone from her hands. A video was playing—it showed an argument I had with Clint weeks ago. But it was completely edited. It cut out the part where Clint had insulted me first, calling me a leech, and only showed me screaming at him about his performance.

"He insulted me first, Clara!" I stammered, my hands shaking. "He called me a leech! Wherever you got this recording, it didn't capture how it actually started!"

"Oh, stop it, Maya!" Clara snapped. "Your bossy, toxic act never ends, does it?! You claimed the money you sent home came from your salary as a writer! But it was all a lie! How much do you actually make from writing to send that much money?! Why didn't you tell us that Clint was the one sending it all along?!"

I froze. Cold sweat broke out on my neck. I had intentionally kept Clint's financial help hidden from my family to protect my independence.

"Did Clint tell you this?" I whispered, my voice trembling.

"Let's just say I have my ways, Maya!" Clara spat. She yanked her bag higher over her shoulder and marched out the front door, leaving me standing in complete shock.

My blood boiling, I turned on my heel and marched into the living room to confront Clint. But the sight that met me left me paralyzed.

Clint was standing near the couch, wiping a stray tear from his eye.

"Are you... are you actually crying?" I asked, my voice laced with disbelief. "What is that on your cheek?!"

Clint ignored me, walking past toward the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. Before he could reach the fridge, I grabbed his arm and spun him around to face me.

"What are you trying to do to me, Clint?!" I yelled. "Why are you trying to make my family hate me?! Why would you tell Clara that you've been sending them money?!"

"Tell me, Maya..." Clint said, his voice soft and broken. "Where have I gone wrong? Is it because I can't perform to your taste?"

"Stop this nonsense emotional blackmail right now, Clint!" I barked. "Clara is gone! You can drop the act and go back to your real self!"

"What do you want from me, Maya?" Clint asked, staring at me with hollow eyes. "You refuse to see how hard I try..."

He walked toward the front door, glancing outside for a brief second before turning back to me. "I think you shouldn't stress yourself out like this. Just..."

"Why did you lie that Oliver gave you the medication that almost killed you?!" I interrupted, taking a step toward him.

Clint froze midway. He didn't turn around. He stood completely still in the middle of the room.

Gently, I walked around him, forcing him to look me in the eye. "And why did you lie about the peanut butter coming from that supermarket in Big Ben?"

Clint scoffed, his gaze darkening. "Did Oliver tell you he didn't prescribe it?"

Before I could answer, a heavy knock echoed through the front door.

Clint placed his hands on my shoulders, his expression softening into something terrifyingly desperate. "Maya, you are my wife. I don't want you stressing yourself out. Remember your condition, too... I'm not the only one with issues. I just want you to know how much I love you, Maya. Please..."

The knock came louder this time. Clint slowly let go of my shoulders and walked over to open the door.

I remained standing in the center of the room. Then, a sharp, familiar voice echoed from the porch.

"I actually came to return this... it was given to me by your wife."

My knees shook violently. My breath hitched in my throat as I slowly turned around.