Chapter80 – Christmas Eve
As the semester edged toward its end, the question on everyone’s mind was the same—university applications.
Clarissa sat at her desk, flipping absently through the college handbook. Page after page, her fingers turned, but her thoughts remained tangled. She couldn’t decide.
A familiar voice broke her concentration. “Thinking about where to apply?”
She looked up. William stood there, holding a folder, the soft afternoon light behind him giving him an almost cinematic glow.
He must’ve just arrived. Lately, things between them had been smooth—warm, even. William had been seeking her out more often, always finding reasons to talk.
Clarissa nodded. “Still deciding. But I’ll probably stay in S City.”
“With your grades, you could easily make it into the top university,” William said, leaning a little closer, his voice soft, steady.
“I know. But… my mom’s health isn’t great. I don’t want to be too far from her,” Clarissa replied, her tone more tender than regretful. “So F University is looking like the best option.”
William gave a small nod. “That’s a good choice too.”
She tilted her head slightly, eyeing him. “What about you?”
In her past life, she remembered William applying to Q University. She’d assumed he’d make the same choice again.
“I haven’t decided yet. I’ll think more about it later in the year.”
“Oh,” Clarissa responded, quiet for a second. “Well… It’s a big decision. You should take your time.” She didn’t press further.
A soft breath left his lips—quiet, controlled. “I have something to take care of at the student union. I won’t bother you anymore.”
“Sure, go ahead,” Clarissa said with a nod and a small smile.
William turned and walked toward the student union office. He placed the documents down on the table just as Xavier approached, flipping a book in his hand.
“President,” Xavier began, “the school’s got two spots for recommendation to Q University. I’m pretty sure one of them’s yours.”
William barely looked up. “You can apply for it. I’m not interested.”
“What?” Xavier blinked. “You don’t want to? You’ve always been set on Q U.”
“I was just curious, that’s all. No rush.”
Xavier chuckled, slapping his book closed. “Man, you’ll shine anywhere you go. As for me? I’ll need divine intervention…”
He walked off, leaving William alone once again.
In the quiet of the student union, William sat behind the president’s desk, silently thumbing through paperwork, though his mind was clearly elsewhere.
A month passed. That night was Christmas Eve.
Clarissa sat curled up in the living room, phone pressed to her ear, her voice low and gentle. She was on a call with the Lancasters.
“No, I’m not coming back this year… You all have a good dinner without me, okay? I’m fine. Really. Everything’s fine… Merry Christmas.”
On the other end, Ophelia had broken into tears. It had taken Clarissa quite a while to calm her down, gently coaxing her back into holiday cheer.
After the call ended, Clarissa looked down at her phone. A notification flashed across the screen—money received.
She blinked. It was a transfer. A large one. Over $800,000.
Attached was a message: “Clarissa, go treat yourself to a new bag! But you promised—you have to come visit after Christmas!”
Clarissa sighed. She could only text back quickly to soothe the other woman’s worry.
Across the city, in the Lancaster mansion—
Ophelia sat on the couch, the phone still clutched in her hand. Her eyes were swollen and red. “My baby Clarissa…”
Nathaniel stood nearby, rubbing her shoulder gently. “She’s finally reunited with her birth mother. We have to let her stay.”
“You can invite her mother here. I wouldn’t mind,” Ophelia whispered hoarsely. “I watched that girl grow up with my own eyes. How could I bear to let her spend Christmas alone out there?”
Her voice cracked again. “Is she still mad at us? Or… is it because of what happened with Dorian? Is that why she won’t come home?”
Nathaniel sighed softly. “Don’t overthink it. Clarissa’s growing up, making her own decisions. I heard she got an A+ again this term.”
He looked at his wife with a hint of pride. “You raised an exceptional daughter. Be happy for her.”
Ophelia nodded slowly, wiping her tears with a trembling hand. “You’re right…”
Lyra’s quiet voice broke the stillness, pulling them both back to the present.
“Lyra? When did you come downstairs?” Ophelia asked, quickly wiping at the corners of her eyes.
“I’ve been down for a while,” Lyra replied, eyes lowered. “Why… why are you crying, Mom?”
“It’s nothing.” Ophelia forced a gentle smile. “Lyra, how are you and your sister getting along at school?”
“Very… very well.” Her voice faltered. She didn’t dare meet Ophelia’s gaze.
But Ophelia, in her gentle naivety, didn’t notice the subtle tension in Lyra’s eyes. “Then talk to her for me. Convince her to come home sooner—she’s always out and about these days.”
“She’s been spoiled since she was little,” Ophelia added, more to herself than anyone else. “No… I have to go see Clarissa myself soon. Nathaniel, go to the warehouse and take out the jewelry sets from my safe. I want to pick out something special for her.”
With that, Ophelia stood up decisively and lifted the hem of her skirt as she walked off.
Nathaniel could only sigh in exasperation. “At least finish dinner.”
“My baby’s not home. What appetite could I possibly have?” she replied without turning back. “You all eat.” She disappeared upstairs, leaving the hall quiet again.
Nathaniel glanced around, then gave a quiet command to the housekeeper nearby. “Prepare something warm for Madam later.”
“Yes, sir.”
Then his gaze fell to Lyra. “Lyra,” he said softly, “come on. Let’s eat. No need to wait for your mother.”
“…Okay.” Lyra sat down slowly, her lashes low, hiding the sad swirl of emotion behind them. But beneath the table, her hands had already curled into trembling fists.
In her parents’ eyes, there was only Clarissa. Only Clarissa was their daughter. Then what was she?
She had worked so hard lately—tirelessly learning etiquette, mastering piano and dance, striving for elegance, refinement… perfection.
But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t touch Clarissa’s light. Clarissa was always the one who dazzled. Always the one they loved more.
She drew in a sharp breath just as her phone vibrated. It was a message from Dorian.
A flicker of light ignited in her eyes. She clutched her phone tightly, the faintest smile tugging at her lips. It was fine. She still had Dorian.
Dorian didn’t love Clarissa. He loved her. As long as she had his love… she hadn’t lost.
That same night, it was the first Christmas Atticus had ever spent at Clarissa’s home. Dinner had been warm and filled with laughter. As they finished, and Clementine retired to her room, Atticus remained still, eyes drifting between the empty plates and the quiet flicker of the candlelight.
Clarissa walked in with a small fruit plate in hand. She sat down beside him, brushing close enough for their shoulders to graze. With a teasing smile, she picked out a cherry and held it up to his lips.
“What are you thinking about?”
Caught off guard, Atticus blinked. Then, without a word, he leaned in and took the cherry from her fingers. The tips of her fingers lingered against his lips for just a moment too long.
He chewed slowly, still silent.
Clarissa chuckled softly and settled beside him, folding her legs up on the couch. “From now on… we’re family.”
Atticus lowered his eyes. “Mm.”