Go Far Away Novel Clara And Ethan Novels & Stories

Clara went behind him and asked “Where the hell are you going? Go to your room. You can’t go out.” "As if you care…I need fresh air. I can’t be in the same room as you." Saying so Ethan went into the house’s garage and sat in one corner. Tears started flowing from Clara’s eyes. Clara’s POV I am sorry Ethan. How should I explain I am doing this for you. Once you turn 17 I will tell you everything but till then I have to bear the pain of you growing distant from me. You are not my real child but I never raised you like a prince. I always raised you as my own child. I hope Ethan you will forgive me after knowing the truth and don’t hate me for hiding your identity. I don’t have much choice. We

She crossed her arms and took a slow step toward him. "Where is he, Ethan?" Claire asked. Her voice wasn't angry. It was just incredibly tired and incredibly serious. "He's... at a wellness retreat," Ethan lied blindly. "In the mountains. With monks. Very peaceful. He took a vow of silence." "Stop lying to me," Claire stepped right into his personal space. "He didn't come home last night. I waited up for hours. He completely disappeared." Ethan hesitated. He looked at her face. She didn't look like a woman who had just successfully kicked her horrible husband out. She looked like a woman who had been crying all night.

“Call me later, okay? Let me know everything’s alright.” Lily nodded, squeezing her back. “Definitely. This was so much fun, even if it got cut short. Love you!” The door clicked shut behind her, and the house fell into a profound, anticipatory silence. Clara stood in the hallway for a long moment, her heart racing with a mix of nervousness and excitement. They were alone again—truly alone. Footsteps descended the stairs behind her. Clara turned to see Uncle Ethan approaching, shirtless and devastatingly handsome in low-slung sweatpants that revealed the deep V of his hips.

Everything around us seemed unusually calm, almost as if the world itself was waiting to see how things would unfold. We got into the car without another word. Mike started the engine, and the low hum of the vehicle filled the silence between us. As we drove away, I stared out the window, watching the city lights blur past while anticipation built inside me. Neither of us knew exactly what would happen next, but there was a quiet understanding between us now. The argument was over, and the journey ahead carried the possibility of answers, reconciliation, and perhaps the chance to finally see Clara again after so much time apart.

"But I truly can't stay married to you anymore. I can't let my child be labeled illegitimate from birth." I said nothing. I simply lifted my suitcase, walked past her, and headed straight for the door. "There's nothing left for us to discuss. I'm glad that we're getting divorced. If you have any conscience left, hurry up and pay what you owe me," I said. The night wind carried fine snow against my face. It was biting cold, but it couldn't extinguish the fire burning hotter within me. … Clara was as efficient as ever. By the time I woke up, three billion dollars had already been deposited into my bank account.

“I’m leaving.” It was like a spark to dry kindling. Ethan staggered forward despite his broken ribs, his voice raw. “Clara, wait. You can’t just walk away—you’ll be destroyed out there. You need me.” I froze. My heart twisted, but I forced myself to keep walking.

Clara’s POV I had thought I’d buried Ethan in the past. That night I left him, I told myself it was for the best. He was drowning in debt, working himself into exhaustion, and dragging me with him. We were living in a shoebox apartment with peeling paint, a mattress on the floor, and hope stretched thinner than paper. I told myself it wasn’t love anymore, that it was survival. But standing at the fundraiser last night, hidden behind the glittering crowd, I saw him.

“She said something before I left. That the truth doesn’t save us. It ruins us.” He looked up at that, his brow furrowing slightly. “What do you think she meant?” “I think she’s not finished.” The rain had stopped by the time Clara left the station, but the streets still gleamed like old glass. She walked slowly to her car, her reflection following her in each puddle. For the first time, she noticed how quiet the world could be when it wasn’t storming a silence that didn’t comfort, only waited. At home, Ethan was asleep on the couch, one hand still holding his pencil. A new drawing lay beside him their house under a clear blue sky. No dark corners. No rain. Just light.

Another whole person makes you more whole, not less alone. That is the whole love story. Every love story in the second life. Clara and the twins. Rosa and Pep. Ferran and Laia. Ethan and her. Fine without. Better with. The six-year-old found the sentence. He was always going to. She tells Ethan that evening, after the party, after the apartment has emptied and the twins are asleep and Clara has gone home to her own apartment three streets away — her own apartment since May, the decision made and executed with the organized calm that Clara brings to transitions she has been preparing for.

However, that time, for the first time in my life, I argued back. “No! I am not giving up my baby no matter what! Even if I have to raise this child alone, I will never get rid of him!” I tried to run away in tears. During the struggle, I lost my footing and fell down the stairs. When I woke up, I lay in a hospital bed. The baby was gone, and Ethan was not there. There was only one message on my phone. He said an important overseas meeting had come up and that he would be away on a business trip for a few days.