Reality

Claire's pov

My father was on his knees, overcome with grief, as his colleagues tried to comfort him. I felt like I was trapped in a nightmare, unable to accept the reality before me. "This can't be happening," I thought, desperately willing myself to wake up from this horrific dream, believing that everything would be okay once I did.

I'm still in disbelief, trying to process the overwhelming loss. The nurse's somber stare now makes sense. Tears stream down my face as I look at my dad, consumed by anger and blame. If only he hadn't betrayed my mom, maybe this tragedy could have been avoided.

Regret and grief wash over me. I think about my decision to use the restroom. If only I had stayed, I might have had a chance to say goodbye to my mom. My heart aches for my brother, whom I had been eagerly waiting to meet. But now, I've lost him too.

Ten minutes have passed, yet I'm still struggling to accept reality.

I screamed with a voice I didn't know I possessed, "No, Mom! You can't leave me! Not now! Please, wake up! I know you're just sleeping!

My dad tried to comfort me with a hug, but I struggled to break free, overcome with anger and grief. I pounded my fists on his chest, tears streaming down my face. "Dad, this is all your fault!" I screamed. "I hate you for what you've done! I hate you, and I'll never be your favorite daughter again! .

You can go ahead and make my step-sister your favorite daughter now, since it's clear you always liked her more than me and Mom!.

My dad denied the accusation, but I didn't believe him. I gazed one last time at my mom and brother, then turned and rushed out of the room, overwhelmed with emotion.

My dad tried to stop me, but I ignored him and kept running. I had no idea where I was going; I just wanted to escape the unbearable pain. As I reached the door handle, a wave of dizziness washed over me. I heard a faint voice calling out, "Claire!" - I assumed it was my dad's voice - before everything went black.

Mr Clifford's pov

It's been three agonizing days since I lost my wife and son. Claire remains unconscious, and I've been by her bedside every day, praying for her to wake up. Her eyes haven't opened, and her body hasn't moved.

Grief and guilt have consumed me. I've taken a leave of absence from work, unable to focus. Tears stream down my face constantly. I've lost my appetite and struggle to sleep.

The weight of all that happened bears down on me. How will I ever explain everything to Claire when she wakes up? I don't know if she'll ever forgive me or even listen to my apology.

To make matters worse, I've just discovered a shocking truth: my ex-fiancée hid the existence of a child we had together. The resemblance is uncanny, leaving no doubt that the child is mine. How will I explain to Claire that I didn't betray her mom? The burden of my past mistakes feels crushing.

I forced myself to get up and went home to fetch some fresh clothes for Claire, hoping that somehow, she'll come back to me.

I returned home, feeling drained, and decided to freshen up. It had been almost two days since I last showered. Afterward, I headed to Claire's room to gather some fresh clothes for her. Just as I was about to enter her room, the doorbell rang. I wasn't expecting anyone, so I hesitantly made my way to the door.

When I opened it, I was met with a shocking surprise. Standing before me were my ex-fiancée and the daughter I never knew I had. I was stunned, struggling to find my voice. "What are you doing here?" I managed to ask. My ex-fiancée asked if they could come in, but I was too stunned to respond.

I couldn't believe she had the audacity to show up at my doorstep, especially after everything she had put me through. I stood there, frozen in anger and resentment, as she pushed past me, entering the house with our daughter. I remained silent, still trying to process the situation.

I walked past them in the living room, trying to ignore their presence, and went back to Claire's room to gather her clothes. I needed to get back to the hospital, to be with Claire during this difficult time.

I arrived at the hospital, and my heart sank as I saw Claire still lying motionless. My mind began to reel, consumed by thoughts of what had just transpired at my house. Was this all part of Agatha's plan - to destroy my family and take my wife's place? The same Agatha who had shattered my heart years ago, disappearing without a word or warning.

Her departure had left me reeling for months, a shell of my former self. It wasn't until Claire's mom entered my life that I began to heal. She showed me the true meaning of love and helped me become the person I am today.

Loving Agatha was my greatest regret, and now she's back to destroy everything. I couldn't help but wonder, why me? What had I done to deserve this? Was it wrong to have loved her? If not for Claire's mom, I had vowed never to love again. She had taught me that not everyone is worthy of love.

I've made up my mind to confront Agatha once Claire is discharged from the hospital. Her presence is unbearable, and every moment I spend near her irritates me. Whether she chooses to stay or leave, one thing is certain - she'll never have a place in my heart, I will forever love my wife Claire's mom. Not after everything she's done. She's destroyed everything I've worked for, and I'll never forgive her for that.

As I gazed at Claire, even in her unconscious state, tears streamed down her face. Suddenly, her finger twitched - the first movement I'd seen in three agonizing days. My heart skipped a beat as I rushed out to summon the doctor in charge of her care.

Returning with the doctor, she conducted a series of checks on Claire. Then, with a warm smile, she delivered the news I'd been longing to hear: Claire was responding to treatment, and she would likely wake up before the end of tomorrow.

I exhaled deeply, releasing the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. A mix of relief, hope, and joy flooded my chest, and I couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of optimism.

I felt a wave of relief wash over me, but it was quickly followed by a sense of trepidation. I couldn't shake the fear of how Claire would react when she finally woke up. I knew I had to tell her everything - about Agatha's sudden return, our child together, and the secrets Agatha had kept hidden from me. The weight of these revelations settled heavy on my heart, and I steeled myself for the difficult conversation ahead.

Claire's pov

I slowly opened my eyes to find my dad sitting beside me. My mouth felt parched, as if I'd been asleep for weeks. My dad's face lit up with a mix of relief and sadness as he called out my name. He asked if I recognized him, and suddenly, the memories came flooding back. The incident, Mom, my brother... it was all real. I wasn't dreaming. A fresh wave of grief washed over me, and I began to sob.

My dad tried to comfort me, but I pushed him away. "Dad, you caused all this," I croaked, my throat burning from disuse. My dad's face fell, and he shook his head before quietly exiting the room. I assumed he'd gone to inform the doctor that I was awake.

My dad returned with a female doctor, who I assumed was in charge of my care. She conducted a series of checks on me, asking if I remembered everything. I nodded, still trying to process my emotions. The doctor reassured my dad that I was okay, and that all I needed to do was eat to aid in my recovery. She showed my dad a level of respect, likely due to his position as a prominent shareholder and doctor at the hospital. After she left, my dad looked at me, but I refused to meet his gaze.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, my dad got up and left, probably to fetch some food for me as the doctor had advised. But I wasn't sure if I was hungry or not. All I could think about was my mom and brother, and how desperately I wanted them back.

My dad returned with some food a few minutes later. He tried to feed me, but I declined, telling him I could manage on my own. He handed the food over to me without hesitation. To be honest, I wasn't hungry, but I knew I needed to eat to recover quickly.

All I wanted was to recover quickly and get out of the hospital, away from my dad. I longed to be alone in my room, surrounded by the familiar comforts of home. But the thought of returning home was bittersweet. I knew I'd never see my mom's warm smile or hear her loving voice again. The pain of her loss still lingered, and I feared that going back to that house would only bring back hurtful memories.

The memories of my mom flooded my mind, especially the ones from when she was pregnant with my brother. I remembered the way she'd lovingly rub her belly, the way she'd smile at me and say, "You're going to be a big sibling!" Those were happy times, and thinking about them now brought a mix of sadness and nostalgia.

All I wished for now was to never lay eyes on the man responsible for my pain. My dad had pretended to love my mom, but his deception ran deep. He had kept a secret daughter, hidden away from us, and that betrayal cut me to the core. I couldn't forgive him for shattering our family's happiness and causing my mom's untimely death. The weight of his lies and secrets was crushing me.

My dad had been staring at me for a while, but I refused to meet his gaze. Perhaps he was expecting me to ask him some questions, to demand answers about the secrets he'd kept hidden for so long. But I remained silent, my anger and hurt simmering just below the surface.

After forcing down a small portion of the food, I lay back down, exhausted. But my dad urged me to eat more, which I refused. As I gazed at his face, I felt a surge of anger and disillusionment. His innocent-looking face was a stark contrast to the deceitful person he truly was. It was no wonder he'd been able to deceive my mom for so long; his appearance had masked his true nature.