Chapter 3

I didn’t answer the receptionist’s question. I only asked her to return the family access card to Claire.

I had been coming to this hospital for seven years, yet I had always felt like a temporary visitor. I was never invited to the foundation galas or department dinners. Even when Claire was promoted, I only found out about the celebration the next day through photos someone else had posted.

She used to tell me hospitals were complicated places and that she didn’t want her private life affecting her work. I believed her for years.

I had once thought that distinction mattered. Claire had never asked me to lie about us; she simply never gave anyone a reason to know I existed. Whenever I came to the hospital, I was the person dropping something off, helping with a project, or waiting downstairs to drive her home. After a while, I stopped correcting people.

At first, I told myself the privacy was practical. Claire was still building her career, and hospital gossip could spread fast. But once she no longer needed protecting, the rule remained.

Only for me.

Evan had never been hidden.

He appeared in hospital photos, charity events, conference dinners, and staff celebrations. Claire’s colleagues knew what coffee he drank, what car he drove, and when he was on call. They knew more about the man she had mentored for two years than they knew about the man who had shared her life for seven.

That was when I finally understood.

Claire had never been against making a relationship public.

She had only been against making me public.

Her office was at the far end of the corridor. The door was open, and before I reached it, I heard Evan’s voice.

“So you’re still going home tonight?”

“Of course.”

Claire sounded distracted, as though she was reading through paperwork while she spoke.

“Yesterday was Adrian’s birthday. I’ll have dinner with him tonight, and that’ll be the end of it.”

Evan laughed.

“You’re that sure? What if he’s actually angry enough to leave?”

There was a short silence before Claire laughed too.

“He won’t. Adrian has built his entire life around mine. The projects he takes, where he lives, even what time he eats dinner—it all works around my schedule. He might be upset for a few days, but he’ll stay.”

I stopped outside the door.

So that was how she understood the last seven years.

I had stayed because she needed me. Somewhere along the way, that had become proof that I had nowhere else to go.

Evan spoke again.

“You’re not worried at all? What if he suddenly decides to go back to architecture full-time?”

Claire sounded as if he had suggested something unrealistic.

“He’s been out of a major firm for seven years. The industry didn’t stop and wait for him.”

I pushed the door open, and the conversation ended immediately.

Evan was sitting in the guest chair beside Claire’s desk. Two hotel breakfast boxes sat between them. Claire had already changed into her hospital clothes, but her hair was still slightly damp, and the dress she had worn to last night’s celebration was draped over the back of her chair.

Her car keys and a Riverside Hotel key card were sitting beside Evan’s hand.

Claire looked at me, then at the suitcase by my feet.

“Adrian? Why did you bring your luggage to the hospital?”

“I came to get a few things. I have somewhere to be afterward.”

I didn’t explain further. I walked straight toward the fireproof filing cabinet against the wall.

“Could you open this for me?”

Claire didn’t move.

“What do you need?”

“My passport, registration documents, and the original drawings from a few of my old projects.”

Her brows pulled together.

“Why do you suddenly need those?”

“For work.”

Those two words held her attention longer than they should have.

Evan spoke first.

“Adrian, are you taking on projects again?”

I ignored him.

Claire finally stood and crossed the office. As she entered the code into the cabinet, she asked, “What kind of project?”

“It hasn’t been finalized.”

“Local?”

“No.”

Her fingers paused over the keypad.

“Overseas?”

I looked at her.

“Weren’t you the one who said I should be doing more with my career?”

For a moment, her expression tightened. She clearly remembered what she had said the night before.

“I was just talking with friends. Adrian, I never said you weren’t capable.”

She opened the cabinet and stepped aside, but her voice quickly slipped back into the calm, reasonable tone she used whenever she thought she knew what was best for me.

“You have been away from a major firm for a long time. Jumping straight into an overseas project may not be the right move. Your local work gives you flexibility, and you make enough. Our life is stable. You don’t need to turn everything upside down just to prove a point.”

I slid my passport into my bag and carefully placed the drawings into their tube.

Claire had always described my flexibility as a benefit when it served her. When she needed someone to handle groceries, appointments, household problems, or late-night pickups from the hospital, my schedule was convenient.

The moment that same career embarrassed her in front of other people, it became proof that I lacked direction.

I had spent years accepting both versions without noticing the contradiction.

Seven years ago, I had given up London because I wanted Claire to have stability while she rebuilt her life.

Now she had the career, income, and reputation she had fought for, and she was using that same stability to tell me why I shouldn’t move forward.

“I’m not trying to prove anything,” I said. “I just want to work.”

Claire looked ready to say more, but Evan got to his feet.

“About last night—I probably should’ve been more considerate. It was my celebration, and Claire stayed much later than she planned. I know that meant she missed your birthday.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” Claire said immediately.

“It was partly my fault.”

Evan turned to me with an expression that looked sincere enough.

“Why don’t you come to my place for dinner tonight? Let me make it up to you. We can call it a late birthday dinner.”

He paused, then smiled.

“And maybe it’ll stop you from misunderstanding what’s going on between Claire and me.”

That last part was the real invitation.

Claire, however, seemed relieved to have been handed such an easy solution.

“That’s actually a good idea. We can all have dinner and clear this up. Spend some time with Evan and you’ll see there’s nothing between us.”

She didn’t ask whether I already had plans.

She never did.

For seven years, Claire had grown used to choosing the time, the place, and the terms. She had also grown used to assuming I would adjust.

“Fine,” I said.

My answer came so quickly that both of them looked surprised.

Evan’s smile stalled for a fraction of a second. Claire studied me.

“You’ll come?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

I picked up the tube of drawings. On my way past her desk, I took the spare key to her office from my pocket and set it down beside her computer.

Claire glanced at it.

“Why are you giving this back?”

“I won’t need it anymore.”

Her eyes lifted to mine, the crease between her brows deepening.

“Adrian, what is going on with you today?”

“Nothing. I’ll see you tonight.”

I took my suitcase and left the office.

My phone buzzed before I reached the elevators.

The London firm had sent the final confirmation.

Your flight details have been received. A car will be waiting at Heathrow when you arrive tomorrow morning at 9:40.

I read it once and slipped my phone back into my pocket.

Behind me, Evan’s voice carried faintly through the open office door.

“He looks genuinely angry.”

Claire’s answer was calm.

“Let him cool off.”

I kept walking.

She was still certain I only needed time to settle down before returning to the place she had assigned me.

By tomorrow morning, that place would be empty.