Chapter 3

Claire Ashford POV

It took me all night to crawl out of the freezing seawater.

The recovered pocket watch was clutched in my palm. My fingers were stiff from the cold, my lips purple.

I staggered onto shore. After just a few steps, everything went black and I lost consciousness.

Afterward, I struggled between chaotic dreams and reality.

Sometimes I dreamed of my mother's gentle smile. Sometimes I dreamed of Vincent kneeling under the scorching sun. Sometimes I dreamed of the pocket watch slowly sinking to the ocean floor.

When I woke up, the smell of disinfectant filled my nostrils.

My whole body was burning with fever. I groggily opened my eyes to see the white ceiling of a hospital.

The room was silent. There was no one by my bedside.

No Vincent.

Not even a nurse.

I propped myself up and reached for my phone on the nightstand, wanting to call Vincent. But then I saw a new post Chloe had made on Instagram.

The photo's background was the passenger seat of Vincent's black Bentley. Chloe's hand rested on her slightly rounded belly, and on her ring finger was a dazzling diamond ring.

The caption was just one sentence: "He said he wants to give me and the baby a home."

I stared at that diamond ring for a long time, until my eyes stung.

That was the pink diamond Vincent had won for me at an auction last year. I thought it was too flashy and kept it in the safe.

Turns out he'd taken it out and put it on someone else's hand.

I pulled my lips into a smile, wanting to laugh, but only tasted bitterness.

I was hospitalized with a high fever for three days. Vincent never came once.

No calls. No messages. It was as if I had disappeared from the world.

On the day I was discharged, I had the taxi stop at a law office.

Two hours later, I walked out with a document. The cover read.

Divorce Agreement.

That evening, I finally returned to the villa I once thought would be my forever home.

As soon as I stepped through the door, I sensed something was off.

Several servants were carrying boxes upstairs, new boxes with luxury brand logos.

"What are these?" I stopped one of the servants.

The servant looked uncomfortable, stammering without answering.

"Claire?"

Vincent's voice came from the living room.

He walked over quickly, his face wearing its usual gentle smile. He reached to take my bag. "You're back."

I avoided his hand and asked again, "Whose things are those?"

Vincent's smile froze for a moment, his gaze evasive. "They're Chloe's. She only has a few more months until she gives birth. I was worried about her living alone, so I thought I'd have her move in. This way it's easier to take care of her, and I won't have to run back and forth between two places."

I looked at him silently. I knew my eyes must have looked like two dry wells at that moment.

My silence made him panic.

He quickly added, "Claire, don't overthink it. Chloe's only staying here for a few months. Once she has the baby, I'll send her abroad immediately. She'll never appear in front of us again. I promise."

Promise.

I remembered how he'd knelt under the scorching sun and promised he'd never see Chloe Rivers again.

I remembered how he'd held my hand and promised that once the child was born, he'd send her away.

Now he was promising again. It was only temporary, just for a few months.

Every promise came with another boundary crossed.

"If you're really that unhappy," Vincent said, seeing my continued silence, his tone softening, "I'll have them throw all this stuff out right now. I won't let Chloe move in. Okay?"

I closed my eyes.

After a long moment, I opened them, calm and emotionless. "No need. I agree to let her move in."

What would be the point of refusing anyway?

Since he'd already made up his mind, since he'd already brazenly moved Chloe Rivers' belongings into our home, did my agreement or disagreement even matter to him?

It would just mean more coaxing words from him, or another day of kneeling in the sun.

Hearing this, Vincent's face showed obvious relief.

He couldn't help but lean in and kiss my cheek. "I knew it. My Claire is the most understanding and considerate."

That kiss landed on my skin, but I felt like I'd been burned.

"By the way," Vincent said, as if suddenly remembering something, frowning, "where have you been these past few days? I haven't seen you around. Were you still mad about the watch and hiding from me on purpose?"

I looked up at him.

He asked so naturally, so innocently, as if he were truly just a husband worried about his wife throwing a tantrum.

I was hospitalized with a high fever for three days, and he had no idea.

I suddenly remembered a phrase I had read somewhere.

When someone doesn't love you anymore, even if you were hanging from a rope, they would think you were on a swing.

I used to think that saying was too harsh.

Now I understood. It was all true.

"No," I heard myself say. "I was just tired and wanted some time alone."

Vincent relaxed and put his arm around my shoulders. "That's good. Tonight I'll cook your favorite dishes to make it up to you. Okay?"