Christopher knelt down, pulling both boys into a tight hug. “Yes, she’s gone. And she won’t be coming back.”
He could feel Frances watching him closely. When he stood up, she wrapped her arms around him, holding him close.
“Thank you, Christopher,” she whispered. “I do not know how bad that situation could have turned out, had you not arrived at the right time.”
“Let’s forget about it,” he said to her in a soft voice. “I will always do whatever I can to protect our family.”
It was then that he noticed that the children still looked out of sorts.
Christopher knew that he must change the topic.
“How about we all go to the library? I’ll read us a story.”
The twins’ eyes lit up at the suggestion, and they eagerly nodded. “Yes, please!”
Frances and Christopher guided the boys down the hallway to the library, their small hands gripping theirs tightly. They settled onto a large, plush sofa, the twins nestled between Frances and Christopher.
“Shall we?”
Ernest and Edwin nodded.
Christopher began to read the story to them. All the while, Frances watched them fondly.
Soon, the tiredness overcame the twins, and they were about to drift off to sleep.
“Time for bed, boys,” Christopher said gently.
The twins nodded, too tired to protest.
Frances and Christopher carried them to their room, before tucking them into their beds and kissing them goodnight.
Frances and Christopher left the room quietly, closing the door behind them. As they returned to their bedrooms, Christopher stopped Frances before she could disappear into her room.
“Frances.”
* * *
Frances’s heart lurched in her throat. She had been silently watching Christopher as he had read a story to the twins.
All the while, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. While he was smiling, it wasn’t the genuine smile that she had come to know and love. It was a smile tinged with something she couldn’t quite place—perhaps lingering anger or sadness.
“Can you spare a moment?” he asked when she did not immediately answer.
She snapped out of it immediately. “Why, yes. O-of course. Would you like to sit down?”
She gestured towards her room, and only after he accepted her offer did she realize what it looked like. She blushed wildly.
Christopher perched on the edge of her bed and cleared his throat. “I wanted to talk to you about what happened today…” He sighed, his fingers tapping on his thigh—it looked like a nervous gesture.
“It was quite strange,” she mused, reluctantly sitting beside him. “Does she have a knack for showing up uninvited like this?”
“Not at all.” Christopher shook his head. “It has been ten years since she even spoke. You can imagine that I was just as surprised as you were.”
“Perhaps not just as surprised as me,” she corrected him, trying to lighten the mood.
“You are right. It would be doubly shocking to you, considering I never even told you the curious case that my mother is…” Regret seeped into his tone, and Frances felt the urge to reach out and touch his shoulder. Make him feel better, in some small way.
But she resisted it. He was sitting on her bed already, and she did not know if it would be appropriate to touch him right now.
