Chapter 2

After Dad died, the shock left me unable to speak.

On top of his classes, Ethan worked himself ragged at part-time jobs.

It was the only way he could afford my tuition and medical bills.

In just three months, he lost a frightening amount of weight.

I was terrified he would meet the same end as Dad.

I forced myself to find a distraction and fell in love with painting.

My teacher said I had talent and should pursue art.

So Ethan did everything he could to send me to the best studio.

Then, one year, a hurricane brought all of Harbor City to a standstill.

I was trapped in a small shop beside the studio.

The water had reached my calves.

And it kept rising.

Emergency crews closed the roads and ordered Ethan to get upstairs.

But he pushed past them, fighting the wind and floodwater.

When he finally found me, covered in injuries, I cried,

“I’m sorry, Ethan.”

He threw his arms around me, weeping with joy.

Over the next few years, I got into one of the country’s top art schools.

Before I even graduated, I held my first solo exhibition and was hailed as a gifted young artist.

Ethan, meanwhile, built his company from nothing and rose to the top of the business world.

That year, he confessed his love for me and swore at Dad’s grave

that I was the only woman he would ever marry.

“Dad, if I ever betray Claire, may I die a horrible death!”

Back when his love seemed so pure,

he bought an entire art museum for me.

He stayed by my side, day and night.

Our lavish wedding made national headlines, and he gave me the wonderful life he had promised.

I thought I was truly happy.

Until he began sponsoring Ava Collins.

Her father gambled, favored boys, and beat both her and her mother.

She had rarely had enough to eat. Her skeletal body was covered in scars.

Just like Ethan’s had been.

I understood that childhood trauma could follow you like rain that never stopped.

So I never tried to stop him from helping her.

I even sent gifts to Ava, who had just started college.

But somewhere along the way,

the girl we were sponsoring

became the person Ethan cared about most.

A sticker marked the passenger seat as hers.

He picked out her clothes himself.

He canceled meetings to defend her whenever someone supposedly bullied her.

One call from her could pull him away from our dates.

“Ava isn’t feeling well. She’s just a young girl. I’m worried.”

But he had forgotten

that I was only two years older than her.

I cried. I fought with him.

But the more I protested, the colder he became.

“Can’t you behave for once?”

“I’ve put up with you paying people to bully her, accusing her of cheating, and getting her financial aid revoked.”

“Have I spoiled you that badly?”

I was stunned. I had never done any of those things.

I wanted to explain, to show him that Ava and I got along.

So I went to her birthday party.

Ethan asked what she wished for.

She smiled coyly.

“I want Claire to give me the bracelet she’s wearing.”

That bracelet had belonged to Dad.

It was my last precious keepsake.

No one knew that better than Ethan.

Yet when I refused, he forcibly took it off me.

That was the first night I didn’t come home.

I kept waiting for him to come looking for me.

I sat outside our house all night.

By morning, I had a fever.

When I finally went inside, I found Ava straddling him, kissing him.

I broke down, rushed over, and slapped her.

I threw everything I could grab at her.

But Ethan shielded her with his body, pink lip gloss still staining his mouth.

“It was an accident. Can you stop making a scene?”