Chapter 277: ~ 276
Chapter 276
~Clinton~
I was at a store, purchasing a step to what I have been dreaming about. My focus was entirely locked on the small, black velvet box the master jeweler had just placed between us.
"Go ahead sir," the older man murmured, smiling warmly as he stepped back to give us space. "It was finished just this morning."
My hands were actually trembling a little, a detail I would never admit out loud to anyone but the man standing right next to me. I reached out, my fingers catching the edge of the velvet lid, and clicked it open.
The breath caught clean in my throat. It was absolutely breathtaking. A flawless, custom-designed diamond. It was elegant, timeless, and completely, unmistakably for my Annie.
"Man, look at that," I breathed, a massive, uncontainable grin breaking across my face as I lifted the box closer. I felt like I was completely vibrating with pure, unadulterated joy. "It’s perfect, Franklin. It is literally perfect. Annie is going to lose her mind."
I turned to Franklin, practically bursting to share the blueprint that had been keeping me awake for weeks. "I’ve got the whole thing planned out. Next month, I’m renting out that private rooftop garden downtown, the one with the view of the sky. I’m going to have the entire deck covered in white flowers and fairy lights. Just a path of petals leading to the edge. I’m going to get down on one knee right as the sun touches the horizon. I’m going to make sure she remembers every single second of it..."
I trailed off, the heavy, dead silence beside me finally pausing my bubble of excitement.
I set the box down and looked at Franklin. He hadn’t said a word. He was standing there like a statue, his massive arms crossed tightly over his chest, his dark eyes staring blankly at the diamond without really seeing it.
The heavy, dark energy radiating off him was thick enough to choke on. It was the same hollow, frozen look he’d had when I pulled up to the estate and practically dragged him out into my car under the guise of needing an extra pair of eyes at the jeweler.
The joyful smile slid off my face, replaced by a deep, immediate concern.
"Can you give us a few minutes, please?" I asked the jeweler, keeping my voice polite but firm.
"Of course, sir." The man bowed his head and quietly retreated through the doors into the back office, leaving the two of us completely alone in the private showroom.
I stepped around the counter, turning my full attention to my brother. The contrast between my bubbling happiness and his suffocating gloom was staggering. "Alright, Franklin. Cut the crap. What the hell is going on with you?"
Franklin didn’t move. His jaw clenched so hard a muscle ticked violently in his cheek. "Nothing. You have a good plan, Clinton. She’ll love it."
"Don’t do that to me," I demanded, crossing my own arms and staring him down. "I’ve been trying to ignore it since, but the energy from you is so low. Now tell me what’s wrong, before I lose my mind guessing."
He let out a breath that sounded more like a growl, rubbing a massive hand roughly over his face. When he dropped his hand, the raw, bleeding exhaustion in his eyes shocked me.
Franklin finally cracked.
"Flynn is a snake, Clinton," he whispered, his voice dangerously low, vibrating with a volatile mix of rage and absolute despair. "And he is dismantling my life from the inside out."
I blinked, my brow furrowing. "What do you mean? I thought things were getting better—"
"It was a play. An act," Franklin growled, stepping closer to me, his voice dropping an octave as he poured out the truth. "A few nights ago, I walked past his study. The door was cracked open. He was on the phone with Aunt Maria. I heard him, Clinton. I heard him laughing into the receiver, telling her, ’Don’t worry, Mum... I’ve gotten on his good side.’"
"Are you serious?"
"Dead serious," Franklin said, his fists clenching at his sides. "The office fire? The distraction that pulled me away from the hospital? I think it was a calculated move from him. He’s playing a massive, intricate game to infiltrate this family, and it’s working. Yesterday, I walked into the nursery and found Octavia holding him, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. I snapped. I told him to get the hell out of my sight."
"Jesus, Franklin..."
"And then we had an awful, screaming fight in our bedroom," Franklin continued, his voice cracking slightly under the weight of a pain he’d been carrying entirely alone. "She fiercely defended him. She told me my paranoia was getting out of hand, that I was acting like a savage beast, and that... she called me a paranoid monster, Clinton. She looked at me like I was the villain."
"Why didn’t you just show her the proof?" I asked, completely baffled. "Why didn’t you tell her about the phone call?"
Franklin let out a bitter, hollow laugh, staring down at the velvet ring box. "Because I don’t want to tell her. I can’t tell her. She is so exhausted, Clinton. She is pouring every single ounce of her physical and emotional strength into keeping Lael alive. Her body is still healing. And on top of that, she is completely warming up to Flynn. She genuinely believes he’s just a regretful, tragic soul trying to mend old family wounds. If I tell her right now, she might not believe me. She’ll just think I’m trying to destroy the one piece of peace she’s found. I chose to stay silent. I let her think I’m the bad guy, because carrying her anger is better than forcing her to carry the terror of knowing a threat is sleeping under our roof."
I stood there in the silent showroom, completely shocked by the burden he had taken onto his shoulders. He was drowning in his own silence.
I took a step forward, grabbing Franklin firmly by the shoulder, forcing him to look me dead in the eye.
"Franklin, listen to me very carefully," I said, my voice completely serious, striking with the weight of a vital piece of advice. "You’re trying to play the lone hero to protect her peace, but hiding the truth is exactly what is destroying your marriage. You think you’re shielding her, but you’re actually shutting her out of the fight."
Franklin tried to pull away, but I tightened my grip on his shoulder.
"She is your wife, Franklin, not a glass doll," I pressed on, refusing to let him retreat into his shell. "She carried your child. She has stood by you through every corporate war and family crisis we’ve ever faced. She is incredibly strong, and her intuition is sharper than you think. I am completely sure she will believe you if you sit her down and tell her exactly what you heard. Just tell her the truth. Because if you don’t... this silence is going to completely tear you two apart. By the time you find ’concrete proof,’ there might not be a marriage left to save."
Franklin stood perfectly still under my grip. The harsh, defensive glare in his eyes slowly fractured, revealing a deep, terrifying vulnerability. My words seemed to echo through the empty spaces of his mind, chipping away at the rigid, stubborn wall he had spent days building.
He looked at me, then down at the flawless ring on the velvet cushion, letting out a long, slow, and deeply shuddering breath. The heavy tension in his massive shoulders finally dropped, a quiet surrender passing over his features.
"I will do just that," he said softly, his voice low but completely resolute.
He gave my shoulder a firm, grateful squeeze, a small spark of determination finally returning to his eyes.
Married people chronicles.