Chapter 1: The Shattered Canvas
So I’m writing this story about this woman Clara right, and basically she comes home one day and sees her daughter Emma’s painting is completely destroyed. Like not just a little damaged, I mean torn in half, frame smashed, the whole thing is just ruined on the floor. And Emma had been working on this painting since September started, every single day after school she would go straight to her room and paint. Sometimes Clara would go upstairs at like 11pm and Emma would still be painting, and Clara would bring her some Milo or whatever and tell her not to stay up too late because school tomorrow.
The painting was this landscape thing with mountains and a lake. Pretty standard stuff but Emma was really proud of it, kept saying she was going to enter it in some competition at school.
Anyway Clara is standing at the door and she can’t move because she’s just shocked. First thing she thinks is maybe someone broke into the house? But then she sees Ashton’s coffee cup on Emma’s desk. The black one he uses every morning. And then everything clicks.
That morning, Ashton had been complaining in the kitchen while eating breakfast. Same old complaints he always makes about Emma’s art supplies being everywhere in the house. Living room has sketchbooks, stairs has paint boxes, basically the whole house looks like an art supply store according to him. Clara said something like well she needs space to do her art, what do you expect. Ashton just gave her this look. You know the look I mean, the one where someone thinks you’re stupid and they’re so smart. He waved his hand and said whatever, my friends are coming next Friday, the house needs to look proper, can you handle it or not. Then he grabbed his briefcase and left.
When he walked past Clara there was this smell. Perfume. Not Clara’s perfume. Sweet smell. Clara knows this smell already because she’s seen lipstick marks on his collar so many times. She actually keeps a notebook under the mattress where she writes down every time she finds evidence. 147 times in the past two years. But I guess saying “who’s counting” sounds less crazy.
“Ma?”
Emma’s voice from behind Clara. So soft that Clara’s heart breaks hearing it.
Clara turns around and Emma is still wearing her school uniform, bag still on her shoulder, but her face already knows something is wrong even before seeing what happened. Kids can sense these things I think. Her eyes are getting watery and she walks very slowly into the room, each step careful like she’s walking on broken glass or something, and then she sees the canvas on the floor.
She just collapses. Goes down on her knees and touches the torn part really gently like it’s a wounded animal. Then she starts crying. Not the quiet kind of crying either, the kind where your whole body shakes and you can’t breathe properly and you’re making these sounds that don’t even sound human anymore. Clara kneels down next to her and pulls Emma close, and Emma is crying into her shoulder saying “I worked so hard mom, I worked so so hard” over and over again.
And something inside Clara just snaps.
She’s been married to this man for twelve years. Twelve years of doing everything he says. Smiling when she’s supposed to smile. Being quiet when she’s supposed to be quiet. Pretending she doesn’t know about the affairs (there have been several before this lipstick woman). Pretending to believe him when he says he’s working late. And for what? So he can destroy their daughter’s painting? Just like that? Not even apologize?
Clara helps Emma stand up and tells her very gently to go wash her face, come down later for dinner, mom will cook your favorite. Emma just nods like a robot and walks to the bathroom. Door closes, water starts running. Clara looks at the pieces of the painting on the floor and then she remembers something.
Last week when she was cleaning Ashton’s study she saw this invitation card. Really thick paper, gold colored, very expensive looking. It said “Humanitarian Leader Award Ceremony, December 15, 2025, Grand Ballroom, 7PM” or something like that. Ashton has been talking about it constantly. This is a big deal Clara, all the important people will be there, media will be there, this could really boost my career. He talks about it so much Clara’s ears hurt from hearing about it.
But everyone will be there right? All his business friends. All the rich people he knows. Reporters with cameras. Everyone.
The idea comes to Clara so suddenly that she surprises herself. What if she went there? What if she stood up in front of all those people and told them who Ashton really is? Not some humanitarian leader but just a cheating husband and a useless father who destroys his own daughter’s artwork for fun?
Her hands start shaking but not from fear. From excitement. Because Ashton would never expect this would he. He thinks Clara is so simple, so naive. He thinks she’s too scared of him to do anything even if she knew about his affairs.
Clara picks up all the broken frame pieces and puts them in a plastic bag. She takes out her phone and snaps photos of the torn canvas from different angles. She needs evidence now. Evidence of everything. Then she carries the bag downstairs and hides it in the storeroom behind some old boxes. Goes to the kitchen and starts cooking dinner because Ashton should be home soon around this time usually. She needs to act normal, he can’t suspect anything has changed.
While chopping vegetables Clara’s brain is making lists. She needs to collect evidence - photos, messages, everything about the affair. She needs to find out about his money, his company accounts, he probably has money hidden somewhere because rich people always hide money. She needs to dig up his other secrets, what else has he done wrong, company dealings, other lies, everything.
She’s actually humming while cooking. Feels kind of good actually. First time in many years she has this feeling of finally being able to do something instead of just sitting there and taking his nonsense.
The door bangs open. “I’M BACK!”
Ashton’s voice is really loud. Clara wipes her hands and walks out smiling, “Welcome home dear, dinner will be ready soon.” He doesn’t even look at her, just throws his bag on the sofa, loosens his tie, says “Man today’s meeting ran so long” and starts walking toward the stairs.
“Hey did you go into Emma’s room today?” Clara asks casually.
He stops. Turns around. For one second his face looks guilty. “Huh? No I didn’t. Why are you asking?”
“Oh nothing, just wondering.”
He looks at her a bit longer then shrugs and goes upstairs.
Clara goes back to the kitchen and grips the counter edge until her knuckles turn white. She really wants to throw the pot at his head but she can’t. She needs to wait. She needs to be smart about this. December 15 is two months away. Two months to collect everything she needs. Two months to plan this properly. Make sure when she destroys him, he can’t recover from it.
Emma comes downstairs, eyes completely red, and sits at the table without saying anything. Clara serves the soup. Ashton comes down later and he STILL doesn’t notice Emma has been crying, just sits down and starts eating and complaining about work, “You know Clara my assistant was so useless today...” blah blah blah. Clara just says “mm” and “oh really” and “wow is that so” - same responses she’s been giving for twelve years - but it’s different now because in her head she’s planning step by step how to burn down his entire world.
After dinner Ashton goes to his study, probably to text that woman. Clara goes to Emma’s room. Emma is in bed pretending to sleep but Clara knows she’s awake because her breathing isn’t steady. Clara sits on the bed and whispers “Baby, mom promises you, everything is going to be okay, mom will fix everything.” Emma doesn’t reply, just turns over, but her shoulders are still shaking.
Clara kisses Emma’s forehead and whispers even softer “Everything is going to change soon.” And she means it. Starting tomorrow she’s going to become a different person. The kind who fights back. The kind who takes revenge.
She walks back to her room and passes Ashton’s study on the way. She can hear him laughing on the phone. Definitely talking to his mistress. Clara smiles to herself. Laugh now. Let’s see if you’re still laughing on December 15.
Two months to completely destroy him.
She can do it.
ok so it’s 1:52am and I’m trying to keep this under 1500 words for mobile readers but also keep the messy realistic feel you know? anyway next chapter is going to show Clara starting her investigation, maybe she hires someone or finds dirt on Ashton’s company idk yet still thinking about it
going to sleep now before I fall asleep on my keyboard lol
