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CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE_ CLAIRE’S POV
Tanggal publikasi:
2026-03-02 23:25:45
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The Wife He Threw Away CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-EIGHT_ CLAIRE’S POV
I left the mansion before Lucian woke up. I told myself it was because I had work to do— that wasn’t entirely a lie. But the real reason was sitting inside my handbag. The pregnancy test. I had barely spoken during breakfast. I found myself brushing my fingers against the strap of my handbag every few minutes, as though I needed to reassure myself that it was still there. I had spent years imagining what it would feel like to walk into a hospital and hear a doctor tell me I was pregnant. Now that I was actually doing it, I found it terrifying. What if the test had been wrong? I’ve heard of a few cases like that. What if— I forced myself to stop. I was doing it again; creating disasters before they even happened. So after breakfast with Lucian, I drove to the hospital. Alone. ⸻ The waiting room was surprisingly quiet. I sat there with my hands folded over my handbag, watching people come and go. A tall woman walked past me holding a sleeping newborn.
The Wife He Threw Away CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-SEVEN_ CLAIRE’S POV
I stared at the pregnancy test for what felt like an eternity. Two lines. They were still there. I blinked several times, as though doing so might somehow change what I was seeing. It didn’t. Two lines. My hand slowly moved to my stomach. There was nothing to feel. No movement. No indication that anything had changed. And yet, everything had changed. I was pregnant. The thought was so enormous that my mind struggled to hold it. After all those years of disappointment, after every test I’d taken while I was married to Lucian, after every month I’d convinced myself that maybe the next one would be different… It had finally happened. I should have been running out of the bathroom. I should have been shouting for Lucian or crying into his arms. Instead, I stood there completely frozen. Because there was one thing I couldn’t ignore. A home pregnancy test wasn’t enough. Not for me. Not after everything I’d been through. I needed confirmation this ti
The Wife He Threw Away CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-SIX_ CLAIRE’S POV
“Claire?” Lucian’s voice cut through the fog. I looked at up him, even though my vision was a little blurry. “What happened?” “Nothing.” I lied. Because what else could I say? My voice sounded weaker than I’d intended. “Sit down.” I obeyed. “You were about to fall.” He observed. “I wasn’t.” I lied again. Lucian raised a brow. I sighed. “Okay. Maybe I was a little dizzy.” His expression immediately became serious. “Are you sick?” He asked, as he put his palm against the side of my neck, checking my temperature. “No.” “Then what is it?” “I don’t know.” He reached for my hand. His palm was warm against mine. “Do you want to go upstairs?” I shook my head. “I just need the bathroom.” “I’ll come with you.” I stared at him. “To the bathroom?” “Yes.” I laughed despite myself. “Absolutely not.” “Claire—” “I’ll be fine.” He hesitated. I squeezed his hand. “Five minutes.” His eyes narrowed. “You’d better come back.” “Yes,
The Wife He Threw Away CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-FIVE_ CLAIRE’S POV
Dinner turned out better than I expected— much better. By the time the first course was served, the terrace had completely transformed beneath the soft glow of the lights. The conversation now flowed easily. For once, nobody was talking about the trial or the last several months that were tainted by scandals and rumors. Nobody was asking about Hart Sullivan or even mentioning Eva. And nobody was discussing whether Lucian would survive the next board meeting. It was simply a birthday dinner. A normal evening— something we hadn’t had in far too long. I sat beside Lucian, listening as Director Whitmore told an embarrassing story about one of Lucian’s first attempts at giving a speech to the board. “You’re not being completely honest,” Lucian said. The old director almost looked offended. “I would never lie about something that memorable.” “You’re describing a completely different person.” “You were eighteen.” “I was sixteen.” Director Whitmore pointed at him. “See? This is
The Wife He Threw Away CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-FOUR_ CLAIRE’S POV
I had spent the better part of the week pretending I wasn’t planning a birthday party. Mostly because I didn’t want Lucian to know. The problem was that keeping secrets from Lucian Dhark had never been particularly easy. The man noticed everything— be it a misplaced document, a change in someone’s tone, a discrepancy of a few thousand dollars in a financial report, or something as ridiculous as a missing cufflink. Apparently, however, he had yet to realize that half the staff at his mansion had been sneaking around preparing his birthday celebration behind his back. I would count that as a victory. “Are you sure this is enough?” I asked Camilla. She looked around the terrace. “I think you’ve already gone far beyond enough.” I smiled. Perhaps she was right. The terrace looked nothing like it had when I’d first returned to the mansion. The furniture had been rearranged. A long dining table was stretched beneath the pergola, covered in crisp white linen. Warm lights had been
The Wife He Threw Away CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-THREE_ CLAIRE’S POV
“She suspects.” The words settled over the room. I stared at Hart. For the first time since we’d walked into the interrogation room, I forgot about the plea bargain.I forgot about the evidence and the victory we’d been waiting months for. All I could think about was Eva. ‘She suspected.’ “How?” I asked. Hart’s eyes remained on mine. “Eva isn’t stupid.” “I know.” “She knows I haven’t been defending her the way I used to.” His jaw tightened. “She knows Sinclair came to see me.“ My stomach twisted. “And she knows you called me?” He shrugged. “She may not know exactly what I’ve decided yet, but I’m sure she suspects.” I glanced at Margot, who was watching Hart carefully. “How much does she know?” “Enough.” That answer did nothing to calm me. I folded my arms in front of my chest. “You’ve known her for almost ten years.” Hart nodded. “You know her better than most people do.” “I suppose.” I studied his expression. “What do you think she’ll do?
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