How to Destroy a Cheater Without Saying Goodbye novel Chapter 147

Blanche shut her eyes, wishing she'd never have to wake up and face the hollow absurdity of her life again.

The sharp prick of a stimulant needle snapped her back into the world, pain searing through her skin, yanking her from the void.

She lay sprawled across the king-size bed, staring listlessly at the vague shapes of people moving about the room.

"I want to see her," she whispered.

Eddy, instantly attentive, smiled with relief. "Of course. But first, sweetheart, you need to finish your soup. Be good for me, and tomorrow I'll take you to see Clara."

Seeing that Blanche didn't protest, he gently propped her up, signaled for the maid to bring in the nourishing broth, and spoon-fed her himself. Murmuring softly in her ear, he coaxed, "Clara wouldn't want her mom to be so sad. You have to stay strong, for her."

He brushed a strand of hair from her face. "And for Healy, too. He needs you."

Healy stood by the doorway, his gaze a complicated mix of concern and exasperation. He echoed Eddy's words, almost by rote. "Mom, hang in there."

Without lingering, he turned to leave, grabbing Lauren's hand. "Can I go see Miss Jean after school tomorrow?" he asked, already halfway out the door.

Whatever Lauren replied was muffled by the closing of the bedroom door as the maid quietly ushered them out.

Only then did Blanche realize how impossible it was for Healy to ever be close to her again, not the way he was when he was little.

That night, Eddy stayed by her side, sitting up through the dark hours. Blanche drifted in and out of restless sleep, waking from nightmares gasping Clara's name, dissolving into tears in Eddy's arms.

The next morning, they boarded a helicopter and soared toward a private island.

When she was pregnant with Clara, Blanche had loved the gleaming ocean and the powdery white sand. She remembered Clara kicking gently whenever they neared the shore, as if even unborn, her daughter could sense the sun and salt air, and relished it.

Guilt had kept Blanche from setting foot on the island all these years. Every anniversary of Clara's passing, Eddy made the pilgrimage while Blanche circled above in the helicopter, never landing, only watching from afar.

The only people living on the island were caretakers. Besides Clara's grave, there was nothing else—no reminders, no distractions.

Blanche brought a bouquet of her mother's favorite tulips, laying them gently at Clara's tombstone.

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