Chapter 4

Clara’s POV 

Early the next morning, Sandra, a friend of mine, helped drag my suitcase while Ethan wheeled me from behind. 

It was obvious my days as Damon's wife had come to an end. For five years I had tried my very best to be a dutiful wife to him, but he didn't appreciate my love.

My suitcase made a soft echo against the marble door, the sound feeling like a mockery. 

I never believed a day like this would come, a day I would be divorced, crippled, and pregnant with just a thousand dollars as alimony. 

Outside, the morning breeze crawled on my skin and sent a chill down my spine.

The cab driver was leaning behind his car, and when he saw us, he hurried forward to help Sandra take the luggage to the trunk. 

Before entering the car, I turned one last time to the mansion, and memories flooded my mind. I could still remember the first day Damon and I moved in.

He told me it was the home where we would both grow old together. It was funny how life had different plans for us. 

“I would love to join you, but I have to be in the office this morning.” Ethan’s voice pierced through my thoughts, bringing me back to the present. 

He helped me into the back seat of the cab, my wheelchair placed in the trunk, before waving as the car engine came to life and drove away. 

The drive to Sandra’s place was a blur of emotions. Trust me, the only thing that stopped me from breaking down was the foetus growing inside my womb.

Slowly, I moved my palm to my tummy, my lips curving into a faint smile. This feeling of motherhood was something I had always had for five years, and since it was here, I needed to fight and stay strong. 

I had drifted into sleep and didn’t realise when the cab driver pulled over at Sandra’s apartment. 

Not until she tapped me continuously. “Come on, Clara. We are here,” she whispered as my eyes opened. 

The cab driver, who was probably in his late thirties, helped carry me inside. I felt awful being carried, as I never wanted to be a burden to anyone. 

Three weeks after I moved in with Sandra, I began learning to love myself again. 

Sandra was nothing but kind to me. She made sure I got everything I needed, even with the financial burden of having to provide for her parents too. 

One evening, we sat in her little living room, watching our favourite reality show, which was suddenly interrupted by the news at 7pm. 

I frowned, my frustration evident before I slowly wheeled myself to my room, only to halt halfway as the anchor’s voice came through. 

“The headlines today — Businessman Damon Adams, CEO of Adams Holdings, tied the knot earlier today with Camilla Hayes, the stunning model and younger sister of his ex-wife, Clara Hayes.” 

My chest tightened as I turned my gaze to the screen, seeing Damon and Camilla posing for the cameras. 

Camila was smiling brightly as she rocked her white wedding gown, her hands resting possessively on Damon’s chest. 

My stomach twisted as the anchor’s voice continued, her voice almost sounding like a mockery. 

“Mr Damon Adams also spoke about expecting his first child soon, highlighting the fact that this was something he couldn’t—”

The channel was changed by Sandra before the news anchor could finish her statement. 

Tears ran down my cheeks, but I didn’t bother to wipe them off. “He didn’t waste any time,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. 

Sandra came closer, taking my hand. “You don’t have to cry, Aria,” she said, slowly dabbing at my tears with a handkerchief. “Trust me, you deserve better.” 

“Doesn’t look like it.” The words escaped my lips, followed by a soft sigh.  

“Trust me when I say things will get better, Aria. I might not know how or when, but we just have to keep believing,” Sandra whispered confidently. 

That night, I couldn't sleep. My eyes were open, staring at the ceiling, thinking of a solution to my predicament. 

I couldn’t let what was happening around me bring me down. I needed to fight back and stay strong, at least for my child's sake. 

The next morning, Sandra and I were having pancakes for breakfast when my phone buzzed on top of the table. 

I glanced at the screen but didn’t bother to answer when I realised it was a strange number.

When the phone buzzed again the second time, Sandra gave me a weird look as I hesitated to take it. 

“Take it, or pass it to me,” she said firmly. 

I exhaled softly as I swiped the answer icon to the right and placed the phone to my ear. 

“Good morning. Am I speaking with Mrs Clara Adams?” A male voice asked, polite and professional.

I sighed softly. “It’s Clara Hayes now,” I corrected.

I see,” he continued. “I’m Benson, a representative from the law firm handling the car accident case you were involved in last month.” 

I tightened my grip around the phone. “How may I help you?” I asked curiously, as I wasn’t expecting a call from them. 

“Well, the car that crashed with yours that night belonged to Mr Leonard Grayson, the chairman of the Grayson Foundation. His car was driven by his chauffeur, but unfortunately he didn’t survive.” 

My brows furrowed in confusion, but I kept quiet as he continued. 

“Mr Grayson was deeply sorry for the incident and wants to make sure you receive the best medical care available. He also offered to settle with you for a million dollars for any damages that were caused.” 

My fork slipped from my hand, clattering on the plate with a soft thud. “Are you serious?” I asked, my heart pounding heavily inside my chest. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied confidently. “Mr Grayson also requested to speak with you directly. I will forward your contact to his personal assistant immediately,” he said firmly, before he hung up. 

My eyes welled up with tears the moment the call ended. Life had given me another shot, and I intended not to mess it up.