Good Novel
Chapter 6
Anthea looked at Carole, her eyes softening. “Mom, I’m home.”
“What… what did you just call me?” Tears welled up in Carole’s eyes. Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.
Carole went to see Anthea just the day before, but Anthea refused to reunite with her. Worse still, Anthea had lashed out, shaming her, saying she could never have such a pathetic mother. Heartbroken and powerless, Carole had left. Anthea was unwilling to be her daughter, and the Morris family was happy to keep her, so Carole could only give up on her daughter.
But Carole never expected that just one day later, Anthea would return, even calling her “Mom“! Was that a dream?
Carole had quite a story. At the tender age of nineteen, Carole fell in love and got pregnant with twins. But during childbirth, she was told one was stillborn.
After her daughter was born, her once–devoted lover vanished without a trace, not to be seen for the next eighteen years.
It was only after reporting him missing at the police station that she discovered the truth. Everything about him had been a lie. His family, his address, and his name were all fake. He was a con artist, a smooth–talking Casanova.
Back in those days, for a nineteen–year–old girl, having a child out of wedlock was a scandal. After the birth, Carole’s parents wanted to abandon the baby and arrange a marriage for
Carole.
But Carole couldn’t bear to part with her infant daughter. Defying her parents, she took her child
and left home.
Over the years, Carole worked odd jobs while raising her daughter alone. Life as a single mother was tough, but she never gave up on her daughter and never remarried.
Anthea embraced Carole gently, saying, “Mom, I’m sorry for the way I acted before. Please forgive me. From now on, I’ll stay by your side.”
“It’s okay, as long as you’re back,” Carole said, tears of joy streaming down her face as she led Anthea inside. “Ann, come in. It’s modest here. Don’t mind the mess.”
Compared to the Morris family’s villa, the Yeager family’s dim basement was more than modest. It was downright shabby.
The living room was a tight ten square meters, with peeling, yellowed wallpaper and a concrete floor cracked and damp. A three–legged table stood against the wall, its fourth leg replaced by a broken stick.
An old–school TV set was sitting on top of this ancient cabinet – it was so outdated, Anthea
was shocked it was still around in this modern era.
Though the place was old, it was clean, revealing Carole’s tidiness.
“Here, Ann, have some water,” Carole said, handing her a glass.
“Thanks, Mom,” Anthea replied, taking a sip.
Carole watched her with those same beautiful and bright eyes wide with amazement. Anthea had changed.
She was different from before.
A few days ago, Anthea had turned up her nose at the tap water that Carole offered, exclaiming, “I use Evian for washing my face, and you give me this to drink? Are you trying to poison me?”
Back then, Carole didn’t even know what Evian meant. Later, she learned it was an expensive brand of mineral water.
But there wasn’t a hint of disdain in Anthea’s eyes at the time.
Despite her caution, Carole managed to ask, “Ann, dinner will be ready shortly. What are you in the mood for? I can whip it up for you.”
Anthea set down her glass, thinking earnestly, “Mom, do we have a shower? I want to wash off this makeup and the smell of alcohol first. I want to feel normal again!”