Chapter 2 - “SHE JUST DOESN’T LIKE YOU”
Over the next few weeks, I tried everything.
I bought Lily a bicycle.
She thanked me.
I took her to the zoo.
She stayed beside Claire the entire day.
I helped her with homework.
She kept looking at the clock.
I made pancakes on Saturday morning.
She ate two bites and said she wasn't hungry.
It was impossible not to notice.
But whenever I mentioned it, Claire became defensive.
“Stop trying so hard.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’m just trying to get to know her.”
“She’s not a puppy, Ethan.”
I stared at her.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you can’t force a relationship.”
“I’m not forcing anything.”
Claire turned back toward the mirror and continued applying mascara.
“She’ll come around.”
But she never did.
One evening, I came home early from the hospital.
The house was quiet.
I found Lily in the hallway.
She had just come out of the bathroom.
When she saw me, the color drained from her face.
“Hey,” I said.
She stopped walking.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded.
“You sure?”
Another nod.
I moved to the side to let her pass.
She hurried past me.
Then I heard something fall.
A small object hit the floor.
I looked down.
It was a pink hair clip.
I picked it up.
“Lily.”
She turned around.
I held it out.
“You dropped this.”
She walked toward me slowly.
When I handed it to her, our fingers barely touched.
She flinched.
I pulled my hand away immediately.
Her eyes filled with tears.
I felt something cold settle in my stomach.
“Lily,” I whispered. “Did I do something?”
She shook her head.
“Did someone tell you something about me?”
Her face changed.
Just for half a second.
Then she looked away.
I saw it.
She knew something.
Before I could say another word, Claire called from downstairs.
“Lily?”
The little girl ran.
Not walked.
Ran.
I followed slowly.
Claire stood in the kitchen.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
Claire looked at me.
“Why are you following her?”
“I’m not.”
Her expression hardened.
“Ethan.”
I stopped.
Lily stood beside her mother.
The same position.
Always the same position.
Behind Claire.
As if her mother were a wall.
That night, I asked Claire about Lily’s biological father.
I knew almost nothing about him.
His name was Daniel.
He had supposedly died in a car accident when Lily was three.
Claire rarely talked about him.
I had never pushed.
But something about Lily’s behavior made me wonder whether the past mattered.
“Was Daniel ever abusive?” I asked.
Claire turned slowly.
“What kind of question is that?”
“I’m asking.”
“Why?”
“Because Lily seems terrified of me.”
Claire laughed.
“Daniel was a terrible husband. But he never hurt Lily.”
“Did he hurt you?”
Silence.
The room changed.
Claire’s face became unreadable.
Then she smiled.
“No.”
I knew she was lying.
Not because I had proof.
Because I had learned to recognize the difference between silence and hesitation.
And Claire had hesitated.
“Why did you ask me that?” she said.
“I don’t know.”
“Then don’t.”
She walked away.
I stayed in the kitchen.
May you like
For the first time since marrying Claire, I wondered if I had entered a family story that began long before I arrived.
And maybe I had never been told the truth about how it started.
