Chapter 1

Whenever nightmares kept Claire up, young Elliot stayed by her bed and talked her through them.

Night after night.

When the older Elliot sent reporters to swarm her house and tear into her, young Elliot pulled her close and shut down every question.

When Elliot gave their wedding ring to his mistress just to humiliate Claire, young Elliot spent every cent he had on a new one and slid it onto her finger.

Then, under the moonlight, he broke down.

His voice cracked. His resolve didn't.

"Claire, he's not me anymore.

"Stop letting him hurt you. Leave him. Come with me, okay?"

The raw plea in his eyes finally broke through the walls Claire had built around her heart.

That night, she signed the divorce papers that had dragged on for two years.

***

Later, Claire went to Paulson Corp to finish the paperwork.

As she approached the office, laughter spilled out.

Cold. Mocking.

The "eighteen-year-old Elliot" was gone.

No warmth. No devotion.

Just a smirk as he flipped through the divorce papers.

"Elliot, getting Claire to sign wasn't even hard. You seriously needed two years? I did it in two months."

The room exploded with laughter.

"Wyatt, you're seriously skilled."

"Claire's getting old. No wonder she bought it. She really thought eighteen-year-old Elliot traveled through time. It was just his twin brother playing dress-up."

"The fights, the ring—it was all fake. And she fell for every second of it. She's almost thirty and still waiting for someone to save her. That's just sad."

Wyatt Paulson barely looked impressed.

"Elliot, I got the signature. Now finish the divorce. If Claire figures out I'm fake, she'll start another scene. I just got back, and I'm still single. Don't wreck my reputation.

"But wow. She really did love the old you. I sweet-talked her a little, and she signed without reading a single line.

"She doesn't even know she's walking away with nothing.

"You're cold, man."

Wyatt sounded amused.

Elliot didn't react.

He sat at the head of the room, calm and unreadable.

The overhead lights caught the ice in his eyes as he blew out a perfect smoke ring.

"She did this to herself.

"Jovie was only eighteen when we got together. She never wanted Claire's place. She just wanted to be my wife for a few days. One stupid wish.

"Claire had to turn it into a war.

"So yeah. Divorce is better.

"Everything she has comes from me. Without me, let's see how far she gets."

Then he looked up.

"The paperwork takes two weeks. Keep the act going until then. Don't let her catch on."

Outside the office, Elliot's secretary, Randy, had gone ghost-white.

Sweat soaked his back.

He waited for Claire to snap.

To storm inside.

To tear the place apart.

But she didn't.

That was almost worse.

She stood there, terrifyingly calm, then handed Randy the stack of papers in her arms.

"Please give these to your CEO," she said softly. "And don't tell him I was here."

As Claire walked out of Paulson Tower, a photo slipped from her bag and caught in the freezing night wind.

It was the first picture she and Elliot had taken after moving to Auremont.

She bent to grab it.

Pain ripped through her stomach.

Claire clenched her teeth and swallowed the metallic taste in her throat. Then she saw the words scrawled across the back.

[To My Beloved Claire]

She almost laughed.

How could she not recognize the boy she'd once loved more than anyone?

Because Wyatt had played the part too well.

So well, she'd let herself hold onto the lie a little longer.

At least until she died.

When Claire was eighteen, she saved Elliot after his father nearly beat him to death.

That was how they fell in love.

Claire had a dying mother. Elliot had a father addicted to gambling.

Their broken families seemed dead set on trapping them forever in some tiny county no one had ever heard of.

But Elliot refused to stay buried there.

With two hundred bucks and a few old outfits, he brought Claire to Auremont.

Their sixty-dollar hostel room was so cramped they could barely stretch out, but his eyes still shone.

"Claire, I swear I'll give you a good life."

With no degree and no connections, Elliot started at the bottom.

He delivered food. Worked sales. Hauled steel at construction sites until he permanently wrecked his shoulder.

Then somehow, he climbed from construction worker to one of Auremont's top businessmen—and turned Claire into the glamorous Mrs. Paulson.

But the higher he rose, the less they talked.

When Claire found out he was sleeping with Jovie Roach—a student she'd sponsored—she spent the whole day in a fog.

Shock. Heartbreak. Rage.

It all hit at once and wiped out whatever reason she had left.

'We survived the worst years together. So why did he change after we finally had everything?'

So she snapped.

She covered Jovie's campus in flyers calling her a homewrecker. She crashed the expensive birthday party Elliot threw for Jovie and wrecked the whole thing...

But Elliot only spoiled Jovie more.

And hated Claire a little more every day.

When every trending headline slapped the word "psycho" beside her name and the whole internet turned on her, Claire had a thousand questions for Elliot.

Then one sheet of paper silenced them all.

Late-stage stomach cancer.

Hereditary.

Untreatable.

A cruel period at the end of their ridiculous ten-year marriage.

So she'd let him go.

At least his little scheme with Wyatt wouldn't be for nothing.

Claire wiped away the tears she hadn't realized were falling and made a call.

"Hi. I'd like to reserve a headstone."