Talk At Home

Mentioning Poppy made Clint’s eyes flicker. The anger on his face vanished in an instant, replaced by that cold, unreadable look Serena knew all too well.

He strode to his desk, sat down, and casually picked up a document. On the surface, he looked focused — like he was deep into his work. But Serena could tell. He was using it as a shield.

After a few moments of silence, she narrowed her eyes and reminded him, “I asked for the divorce papers. Did you hear me?”

Without even looking up, he muttered, “There’s nothing here but business documents. I’m busy. We’ll talk at home.”

Talk at home. Again.

That place he called “home” hadn’t felt like one to Serena in a long time. Every time she walked through that door, all she could picture was Poppy — naked in Clint’s bed. It made her sick.

It wasn’t about love anymore. No, those feelings had been buried ages ago. But she was still human. And no one liked having what was theirs taken without a fight.

She didn’t want to keep making herself miserable.

“Ever Hill Villa isn’t my home. I’m not going back. Poppy seems to like that bed — let her have it.”

“Serena!” The way he said her name made the air freeze between them.

She paused, then replied coldly, “What?”

Clint finally looked up from his papers, his tone slower now, more deliberate. “If I told you… that there’s nothing going on between me and Poppy — not the way you think — would you believe me?”

“What?” Serena leaned forward, cupping a hand to her ear. “I’m sorry, did I just hallucinate?”

“I mean it. Poppy and I, we really—”

“Hahahaha!” Serena couldn’t help it. The laugh burst out of her like a dam breaking. Tears welled in her eyes as she tried to stop, but the absurdity of it all hit her too hard. “Wow, Mr. Beckett, who knew you had such a great sense of humor? You and Poppy aren’t like that? Forget what I think — why don’t you go ask anyone in your company? See if they buy it.”

Her fingers dug into the edge of the desk. Across from her, Clint’s jaw clenched like he was holding something back.

“I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Believe you?” She scoffed. “After everything you’ve done, you really expect me to fall for this fake sympathy? Clint, I was prepared to walk away and let you two be happy together. And now you’re pulling this crap? What do you want from me?!”

“I didn’t—”

“You didn’t?!” Her voice rose. Her chest tightened, fury rushing through her veins. And then the image flashed in her mind — the one burned into her memory. Her babies. Her blood. That final moment before she died.

She snapped. “If there was nothing going on, then what the hell were you doing in bed with her?! Why didn’t you say anything when I caught you both naked?!”

“I— What?” Clint looked stunned. “That never happened! What are you talking about? Don’t make stuff up!”

His reaction made her stop cold.

Wait... right. She hadn’t walked in on them yet. That scene… that was next year.

She had forgotten — she wasn’t in that life anymore. She had gone back. She was 24 again.

Swallowing hard, Serena tried to collect herself. “Well,” she said with forced calm, “maybe you’re just better at hiding it. I haven’t seen it yet, but I’m sure you’re doing a great job behind my back.”

Clint stared at her, clearly frustrated. “Serena, I really don’t know what’s going on in your head.”

His silence after that felt like an answer all on its own.

Serena laughed under her breath and walked over to the desk. Leaning against it, she stared him down.

“Dragging this out isn’t like you, Clint. Let’s stop wasting time. Let’s get this divorce over with and set each other free. Sound good?”

“Free?” Clint repeated, snapping his head up. His eyes met hers. “Who ever said divorce was gonna set you free?”

The words knocked the air out of her lungs.

What the hell was he talking about? If not freedom, then why bring up divorce at all? Was this some twisted game?

She frowned, trying to process it, but Clint was calm — infuriatingly calm.

“Let me guess,” she said slowly. “Since you’re so in love with Poppy, you want to give her a proper title, right? As long as we’re still married, she’s just the side piece.”

Clint’s gaze dropped. He murmured, barely audible, “That’s her problem.”

Her eyes widened. “What did you just say?”

He quickly turned back to his papers, expression unreadable. “Nothing. I’ve got work to do. If you’re done here, you can go.”

Serena clenched her fists but said nothing. It was clear he wasn’t going to give her anything today. If she stayed, it would only get more pathetic.

She turned to leave, then hesitated at the door. One last glance.

Clint wasn’t reading anymore. He was just staring — eyes wide, panic flashing in them — before he quickly looked away.

Serena blinked hard, as if trying to shake something off. And when she opened her eyes again, Clint was back to shuffling papers like nothing happened.

She shook her head, muttering under her breath, “What the hell is going on today? I’ve been sleeping fine, so why does it feel like I’m losing my damn mind?”

***