Belle stood off to the side, her discomfort gnawing at her. Why was her son constantly at Joelleâs beck and call? It was just a fever. Surely, Joelle could manage on her own!
Frustration simmered beneath Belleâs surface, and eventually, she slammed the kitchen knife onto the counter. âIf sheâs so ill, she probably wonât even have an appetite for the food I cook. Liza, weâre leaving!â
Rafael blinked in confusion, his brows knitting together. âMom, whatâs going on?â
âNothing. Iâve just finally realized that once a man gets married, he forgets all about his mother.â
Rafaelâs confusion only deepened, and he gave a helpless smile. âMom, donât you want me to treat Joelle well?â Everything had seemed fine just moments ago. What had gone wrong? The last thing Rafael wanted was a rift between his wife and his mother, the two most important women in his life.
Belle was at a loss for words, her heart heavy with regret. Joelle wasnât at all the person she had imagined. Instead of the dutiful daughter-in-law Belle had expected, Joelle seemed to be an entitled woman with delusions of grandeur.
As a woman from a wealthy family and Joelleâs mother-in-law, why was she the one rushing to cook? Shouldnât Joelle be bending over backward to earn her approval? With this thought, Belle straightened her back, her resolve hardening.
âTreat her well? And who exactly is she? Letâs not forget, Rafael, sheâs a divorcee with two children. Sheâs the one who should be taking care of you, not the other way around!â
Rafaelâs eyes widened in shock. The venomous woman before him was so unlike the generous and open-hearted woman he had always known. These cutting remarks didnât just insult Joelle; they betrayed the very values Belle had instilled in him.
But Rafael hadnât yet grasped just how deep a womanâs resentment could run when she felt threatened by another. It seemed Belle had forgotten the words she had used to praise Joelle.
âMom, how could you say something like that about Joelle?â
Seeing her son rush to Joelleâs defense only fueled Belleâs anger. âDo you even remember your last name? Youâre a Romero, not a Watson! Even your father wouldnât dare to speak to me like that!â
Rafael had always been respectful to his parents, a value deeply ingrained in him since childhood. But this time, Belle had crossed a line, and he couldnât stay silent. Liza, caught between them, tried to defuse the situation. âMom, Rafael didnât mean it like that. Please donât be upset.â
Rafael clenched his jaw, his voice steady but firm. âMom, I know my tone wasnât right, but you canât talk about Joelle that way.â
Belle maintained her composure and said nothing.
Liza stepped in again, her tone conciliatory. âRafael, you know Mom only wants whatâs best for you. After all, you deserve someone better than Joelle.â
âI donât see it that way,â Rafael retorted without hesitation. âIâm with Joelle because I love her. And she deserves my love. So please, donât say that again.â
âWhy are you raising your voice at your sister?â Belle shot back, siding with Liza. âWho do you think weâre doing this for? Itâs all for your own good!â
Rafael found himself struggling to articulate his thoughts. âMom, what on earth did Joelle do to make you think I suffered in our relationship?â These two were utterly baffling!
Belle was at a loss for words. She knew Rafael too well. He had adored Joelle for years, so it was inevitable that he would bend to her every whim. But Joelleâs fiery temper was something else. Belle couldnât shake the certainty that Rafael would end up being walked over.
They were all their parentsâ precious gems; why should Rafael, just because he was a man, shoulder a heavier burden? The more Belle dwelled on it, the more injustice gnawed at her.
âI donât want to talk about it! Just you waitâyouâll regret this, mark my words!â
âRegret what?â Rafael felt his patience slipping. âMom, what exactly are you trying to say? Why are you so dead set against Joelle?â
Belle was on the verge of replying when Kristi approached, clearing her throat. âMr. Watson has returned.â
The atmosphere was still charged with tension when Shawn, impeccably dressed in a suit, strolled in, offering them a warm smile. âGood evening.â
A flicker of embarrassment crossed Belleâs face. She had gotten so worked up that she momentarily forgot she was still in the Watson familyâs home.
âShawn, youâre back.â
âYes, I heard Joelle was running a high fever, so I came straight after work to check on her.â
âI see,â Belle replied, her mood deflating. âWell, now that youâre here, Iâll take Liza and head back.â
âLeaving so soon?â Shawn said, his tone inviting. âWhy donât you stay and join us for dinner?â
âNo, thank you.â Belle shot a glance at Rafael. âItâs clear someone doesnât want me around!â
Shawn blinked in confusion, turning to Rafael and giving him a subtle nudge with his eyes as if to say, âDo something!â
Rafael pursed his lips and said, âMom, let me walk you out.â
Outside, Rafael held the car door open for Belle. âMom, we can talk later, okay?â
âTalk about what?â Belle snapped. âNow that youâve got a wife, why would you care about your motherâs nagging?â
Rafael glanced at Liza, silently pleading for assistance. She stepped in smoothly. âRafael, Iâll have a word with Mom. You should go back inside and check on Shawn. We donât want him overhearing all of this.â
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