Claire took a shaky breath.
“I’m sorry I didn’t defend you. I’m sorry I allowed Brandon to speak to you that way. And I’m sorry I expected you to accept humiliation so Christmas would remain peaceful.”
“Thank you.”
Then she began crying.
“He isn’t always like that,” she said.
I remained silent.
She gave a broken laugh.
“I know how that sounds.”
Claire explained that Brandon hated needing my financial help. He claimed I used money to control them.
“Have I ever demanded control?” I asked.
“No.”
“Have I ever told you how to raise your children?”
“No.”
“Have I ever asked you to choose me instead of him?”
“No.”
“Then what Brandon hates is not control. He hates the evidence that the woman he dismisses is the person preventing his life from collapsing.”
Claire finally looked at me.
“He told me to choose,” she admitted. “He said that if I came here, I shouldn’t return home.”
“And yet you came.”
“I didn’t know where else to go.”
I moved beside her and held her.
“You and the children may stay here for as long as necessary.”
At 12:40, Brandon arrived and began pounding on the front door.
“Claire! Open the door!”
Lily appeared at the top of the stairs, frightened.
Claire sent her back to the guest room.
I stood behind the locked door.
“You may speak from the porch.”
“My wife and children are coming home,” Brandon demanded.
“They are safe here. You will not enter while you’re shouting.”
“You always wanted to turn her against me!”
“No, Brandon. You accomplished that yourself.”
He struck the door with his fist.
Claire jumped.
Then something changed in her expression.
She stepped forward.
“Brandon, go home.”
Silence followed.
“What did you say?”
“I said go home.”
“Open the door.”
“No.”
