Chapter 5
The news article featured two photos—one showed Ethan down on one knee, sliding a ruby ring called "Heart of True Love" onto Lynn's finger. The other showed Claire lying in a hospital bed with bandages wrapped around her head.
The harsh fluorescent lighting made her look even more alone and pitiful in that sterile room.
Claire pressed her hand against her chest. It felt hollow and empty, but at least it no longer hurt.
She forced herself up and called a car to take her home.
The moment she arrived, she went straight to the display cabinet in her bedroom. She began throwing everything inside into a shipping box. The wedding ring came off last.
The tan line was faint, just like whatever she and Ethan had shared.
While she waited for the courier, she opened her laptop and sent Callum all the evidence she'd gathered. "I can confirm Lynn's been using the media to secretly pass along information about—"
She'd just hung up after finalizing their plan when she heard footsteps coming up the stairs.
She scrambled to pack everything away, but then Ethan pushed through the door with a gift in hand. "Claire, I got you some earrings—"
His eyes locked onto a photo in her hand, and his voice went tight. "What is that?"
Her chest clenched. She'd been in such a rush that she'd missed one—a photo from the kidnapping investigation she'd printed out.
In it, Ethan was covered in blood, and his right eye was gone.
"No! That's not—that's not how it was—" Ethan's eyes widened, and the postcards slipped from his shaking hands and scattered across the floor.
He grabbed the wedding ring hanging from his chest and doubled over in pain. "Don't come closer. I won't betray her. I won't."
"You can have it." Ethan suddenly reached for his right eye. "Take it. Just don't touch her."
Claire lunged forward and grabbed his wrist hard, but he threw her off with terrifying force.
Her lower back slammed into the edge of the table, and pain shot through her so sharply that sweat beaded on her temples, but she still gritted her teeth and wrapped her arms around him from behind. "Ethan. You're safe now. No one can hurt you."
"Get off." Ethan tore through the entire room, smashing everything to pieces, and even the delivery box by the door didn't escape.
Claire's voice shook as she called out to him, "Ethan, please calm down."
The wedding photo frame flew past Claire's ear and smashed into the wall. Glass exploded everywhere, and a shard grazed her temple, leaving a thin line of blood trickling down her face.
"Ethan." Lynn's voice cut through the chaos as she finally arrived.
Ethan froze and stared at her, his expression blank.
She rushed over and pulled his head against her chest, humming softly. The melody was achingly familiar—it was the same song Claire used to sing to him.
The sound seemed to pull him back. Ethan blinked and focused on Lynn. "Lynnie, what are you doing here? Did I scare you?"
"I'm fine, Ethan," Lynn said, her eyes full of concern. "But why did you have another episode?"
His expression hardened instantly, and that cold prosthetic eye locked onto Claire. "So that's why you've been so quiet lately. You've been collecting all this stuff behind my back, waiting for the perfect moment to trigger me, to make me hate her even more?"
His voice turned razor-sharp. "At least Lynnie protected me when it mattered, even if she was one of the kidnappers. But you? You're supposed to be a cop, and you—"
He didn't finish. He just looked at Claire with pure disgust, grabbed Lynn's hand, and walked out.
The door slammed shut, and Claire stood there surrounded by the wreckage. The destroyed room felt like a perfect mirror of the last six months—shattered and broken beyond repair.
There were too many emotions clogging her throat, sharp and choking like a fish bone lodged deep.
They'd been engaged since before they were born. Didn't that mean anything? Didn't she deserve even one chance for him to trust her?
But in the end, Claire didn't ask anything. She just bent down and picked up the scattered items, tossing them into the trash along with twenty-five years of their shared past.
The display cabinet now stood empty, but memories flooded back like a tidal wave.
Two years ago, right after their wedding, Ethan had covered her eyes and led her here. His palms had been burning hot against her skin, and his voice had trembled with nerves.
When he'd finally pulled his hands away, there were no glittering jewels inside the cabinet and no expensive antiques. Instead, carefully arranged like precious treasures, were pieces of their twenty-five years together.
The love letter he'd secretly slipped into her backpack in elementary school. The second button she'd given him on her graduation day from the police academy. And the wedding invitation he'd written by hand.
What had he said back then?
He'd said, "Claire, when we have kids someday, I want them to know that Dad will always love Mom the most."
He added, "I did before, I do now, and I always will. No one else even comes close."
That Ethan, who'd loved her like his own life, had died a thousand deaths during those thirty days.
The man left behind now wasn't him—or at least, he wasn't the man she'd loved.