Chapter 241: Chapter 241



When Rafael returned home that evening, Belle was in high spirits.

She greeted her son warmly, inquiring about his day. However, Rafael placed his hands on her shoulders with a grave expression. “Mom, we need to talk.”

Belle, taken aback, wondered when their relationship had worsened to warrant such a formal tone.

Liza teased lightly, “Rafael, ever since you got married, it seems like Mom doesn’t matter to you anymore. You never used to speak to her this way.”

Exactly. Belle’s concerns crystallized in that moment—it must be because of Joelle.

She dismissed the conversation with a wave of her hand and sank into the sofa, her expression souring. “What is it you want to discuss? If it’s about Joelle, I’d rather not hear it. That’s your issue to resolve.”

Rafael leaned forward, his tone earnest. “Mom, what’s the problem? Has Joelle done something to offend you? She’s been trying so hard to get your approval, treating you like her mom.”

“Enough!” Belle retorted sharply. “She’s just my daughter-in-law. We don’t share blood; how could she treat me like her mom?”

Rafael inhaled deeply, attempting to bridge the gap. “But, Mom, Liza isn’t blood-related either, yet you consider each other as close as any mother and daughter.”

“How can Joelle compare to Liza? Liza has been part of our family since her childhood. She’s a grateful person. Our connection feels real, unlike what’s possible with Joelle. It’s not about blood. And Joelle, acting like she can order me around because you love her? Who does she think she is? Her family has gone bankrupt. Since when do I have to cook on her schedule?”

Belle realized she might have crossed a line, but her frustration was palpable.

Rafael, unable to contain his frustration, began to approach Belle heatedly, but Liza quickly intervened. “Rafael, don’t be angry with Mom. She’s just being honest.”

“Liza, you see how things are with Joelle. Please, talk to Mom,” Rafael pleaded.

gαℓησν𝒆𝓁s․com has stories worth exploring Liza’s gaze fell, a look of turmoil crossing her features. “Rafael, I have to say, Joelle’s behavior towards Mom has seemed a bit off lately.”

“Even you think so?”

Liza reached out, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “Let’s not dwell on this now. You’re rarely home these days. Why don’t you stay for dinner?”

“I’m not hungry,” Rafael replied, his attention shifting back to Belle. “Mom, Joelle has always shown you respect. To hear you say otherwise makes me feel like you’re being unreasonable.”

“Unreasonable?” Belle stood up, furious. “Is that how you speak to your mother? After all I’ve done for you, you choose Joelle’s side over mine?”

“Mom, that’s not what I’m trying to say.”

“What am I misunderstanding then?” Belle asked, her voice rising in frustration.

Liza attempted to interject, soothing the escalating tension, but Belle persisted, “Tell me, what am I misunderstanding?”

Rafael remained composed, his stance resolute.

At that moment, Humphrey entered the room, his arrival instantly imposing silence and heightening the tension.

“You come home so rarely, and the first thing I hear is conflict. Your mother means well. Is she really in the wrong here?”

Rafael bowed his head slightly. “Dad, this time it’s different. Joelle hasn’t been at fault, yet she’s continually singled out by Mom.”

“She is still your mother,” Humphrey asserted, his voice deep and resonant, brooking no dissent.

Rafael remained silent, a product of a strict upbringing where familial hierarchy ruled supreme. Humphrey and Belle were his parents, and both he and Liza had been raised to adhere strictly to their authority. Even minor infractions could lead to repercussions.

In this moment, Rafael’s silence wasn’t due to a lack of courage to speak up. Rather, he recognized that arguing would be futile in altering their entrenched views. “If that’s your stance, Dad, then there’s nothing more I can say,” Rafael finally uttered, resignation in his tone.

Humphrey’s eyes narrowed, his intense gaze focusing on Rafael, signaling he was ready to enforce his authority.

Belle’s anxiety grew. Though frustrated with Rafael’s defense of Joelle, she dreaded seeing her son face his father’s sternness.

Liza stepped protectively in front of Rafael. “Dad, Rafael isn’t trying to be disrespectful.”

“Liza, move aside. I want to hear him out,” Humphrey commanded.

Reluctantly, Liza moved next to Belle, both anxiously observing the unfolding standoff.

“Rafael, what is it that you want?” Humphrey demanded.

Rafael met his father’s gaze. “I want Mom to apologize to Joelle.”

The sound of a slap echoed sharply through the room, turning Rafael’s head to the side with its force. Belle and Liza gasped, their hands flying to their mouths in shock. “You want your mother to apologize to someone the Miller family discarded? Have you lost your senses, spending all your time tending to children?” Humphrey’s voice boomed, his disappointment palpable.

Rafael remained still, absorbing the sting without a word, but Humphrey continued, his frustration mounting.

“As a man, you should be building a career, not wasting your days on childcare, fussing over your wife and kids. And now you dare to challenge your own parents? What became of the principles we raised you with? You never even consulted us about your marriage to Joelle, so why this defiance now?”

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