Chapter 223
The cake was placed on the table, and the waiter began bringing in the dishes one by one.
Yvonne watched as the plates were set down. More than half of them were her favorite foods. She lowered her head, fighting to control the overwhelming wave of emotion that threatened to break through.
So many years had passed, but her parents had never forgotten her.
Once all the dishes were served, Monica picked up her utensils first. She placed some of Yvonne’s favorite foods into the empty bowl, her voice catching as she whispered, “Vonnie, it’s time to eat p>
Those few words were all it took. Yvonne could no longer hold back, and tears streamed down her face.
Thankfully, the mood at the table was somber. Bruce’s eyes were red as well, so Yvonne’s tears didn’t seem out of place.
Besides the feast on the table, Bruce had also ordered two bottles of premium whiskey, and Bennett was drinking with him.
After one bottle, Bruce was clearly drunk, his face and neck flushed red. With bloodshot eyes, he stared at the empty seat.
The bowl and plate in front of it were filled with all of Yvonne’s favorite dishes, but not a single bite had been taken.
Bruce’s vision blurred. He wiped his eyes, his voice choked with a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob.
“I remember… the last time Vonnie came home for your birthday, before she died, I threw the carnations she bought into the trash. The look on her face… she was so hurt, almost in tears. I was so angry about her dropping out of school that I yelled at her, said she was throwing her life away, and that I didn’t have a daughter who would stoop so low… How heartbroken she must have been!” Tʜe source of this ᴄontent ɪs
Bruce wiped his face again, then reached for the whiskey bottle to pour another glass.
“Morgan, you’ve had too much. Stop drinking,” Monica pleaded, her own eyes red as she reached for his glass.
But Bruce pushed her hand away. “I’m not drunk. It’s your birthday. I’m happy p>
He said he was happy, but his smile was more painful than a grimace.
Monica couldn’t control herself any longer. Tears streamed down her face until she was sobbing uncontrollably.
The last time she had seen her daughter, she had been in a flag-draped urn delivered by the force.
She had held the urn, so cold and lifeless, nothing like her daughter. Her Vonnie had always been so warm and full of light.
“It’s all your fault! It’s all your fault! Vonnie came back for my birthday, and you drove her away! You drove daughter away and now she’s never coming back p>
may
Monica grew hysterical, pounding her fists against Bruce’s chest.
Bruce let his wife hit him, making no move to stop her.
He was consumed by regret for not having given his child more trust and support back then.
He had raised her himself; how
could he not have known her
character? As a child, she had
his officer’s Cal onto her head p>
more than anything, more than
always sneaking it
When he told her not to, she drew one for
with a pen, declaring
that one day she would be a police officer toor with her very own cap.
Remembering the sorrow and reluctance in his daughter’s eyes the last time he saw
her, Bruce felt as if a knife were twisting in his heart.
He raised his arm and began slapping himself across the face.
Yvonne was terrified and rushed to stop him.
“Please, don’t do this! Yvonne never blamed you. She always said you were her idol, her hero p>
Yvonne tried to calm Bruce, then Monica, but neither would listen. She was frantic.
She turned to Bennett, only to see him sitting calmly in his seat, slowly sipping his whiskey, completely unfazed.