Chapter 4
I was about to explain that none of this was my fault when my mother-in-law spoke up. "Actually, apologizing wouldn't hurt."
Just then, Ryan walked in from outside.
"What's going on?"
He reached down and helped Grace up from the floor.
Mia threw herself into her father's arms, sobbing out her story, a child's one-sided account: Grace had kindly offered me nourishing soup, and I'd pushed her, getting her burned.
Ryan turned to me and said outright, "Claire, apologize to Grace."
A dull ache spread through my chest.
It was from anger.
But I wasn't going to drag this out. "I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention."
I turned to leave.
Ryan caught my wrist.
"You did the same thing to her last time. Grace is fragile. Do you think she can handle this kind of treatment?"
He squeezed, and the nerve running from my broken finger shot pain up my arm, numbing it.
"What do you want from me?" I asked.
"Apologize to her properly," he said. "You should kneel and apologize to her."
My heart began to pound harder and harder.
I could feel it acting up.
I dropped to one knee.
"I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention."
Then, looking at Ryan, I let my other knee hit the floor.
"And this is my apology for forcing my way into your family six years ago.
"Is that enough?" My voice came out short and rushed.
Something flickered in Ryan's normally cold gaze.
He seemed to reach for me.
I slipped away, unnoticed, and walked out of the mansion without looking back.
I took a cab to the hospital to pick up some medication, then met Attorney Brooks at a café.
He wore a sharp suit, carrying an air of quiet wealth, nothing like the poor, awkward student he used to be.
"You finally came to your senses about the divorce?
"But the agreement you asked me to draft gives you nothing," he said, placing the documents in front of me.
Adam Brooks had been my senior in college.
We'd both come from the same small town.
Right now, he was the only one willing to help me.
He was taking a risk, but I was paying him double his usual rate.
"I'll need your help with everything that comes next," I said.
"That's what I'm here for," Adam replied.
Holding the agreement, I added one more thing. "Hold off on filing for now. I'll handle the first move myself."
"Okay," he said.
It was evening by the time I got home.
My mother-in-law said, "Ryan is out at a business dinner. Go pick him up. You can talk things out face to face."
She probably thought things got a little too ugly this afternoon.
I kept my face blank.
"Fine," I replied.
I got the address from Ryan's assistant and arrived at the Oak Lounge around eight in the evening.
My chest still ached.
I stopped at a convenience store, bought a bottle of water, and swallowed a few pills.
Then I followed a server to Ryan's usual private room.
"Isn't today the anniversary of her death?"
I heard the voices inside. My hand, already on the door handle, froze.
"If it weren't for Claire showing up, would she have gotten so sick and left those two kids behind?"
So it wasn't just Mia and Charlie who saw it that way.
Ryan thought it too.
"Say, Ryan, you didn't actually take that woman as a replacement for your wife, did you?"
"She's the one who latched on." Ryan's voice was low.
"Yeah, those two kids absolutely hate their stepmom. And all these years, she's never even had a kid of her own. Isn't that the best proof that Ryan's heart belongs to his late wife?"
They used our lost child to prove his devotion.
"Honestly, that woman is pathetic. Loving someone so much she lost all her dignity."
"Tell me about it."
"Speaking of resemblances, I still think Grace looks more like..."
"Mrs. Walker..." the server called out hesitantly.
My hand slowly dropped from the door.
"Don't tell them I was here," I said quietly.
That night, I waited for Ryan to come home.
A signed divorce agreement sat on the nightstand.
But all I got was an update from Grace on Instagram.
Under the dim light, a man's arm was draped over Grace's shoulders, and on his hand, a silver ring glinted, impossibly familiar. It was the custom-made ring I'd given Ryan on his birthday.
The two of them were watching the sea together.
The caption read: "He said he wants to find the feeling of first love again."
It was posted at midnight.
This one-man show of mine had run for six whole years.
I signed the agreement, packed my few remaining belongings into a suitcase, and sat in the living room waiting for Ryan to come home.
At dawn, Charlie came downstairs in crooked clothes, and Mia's braids were askew.
The whole family trooped down for breakfast together.
That was when Ryan walked in.
He looked exhausted, his tie askew, a lipstick stain on his collar.
I walked up to him with my suitcase.
"I've already signed the divorce agreement. Just waiting for your signature."
Ryan glanced at my suitcase. "What is this supposed to mean?"
Wasn't it obvious?
"I'm moving out," I said calmly.
This time he didn't care that the children were watching. Anger was plain in his voice.
"Have you lost your mind?!" he snapped.
"I haven't. I told you I wanted a divorce. I told you last time."
He just hadn't cared.
Charlie casually pulled out his chair and sat down.
"Pfft. Like we'd even miss her. A grown woman playing runaway? Fine, go."
Mia's childish voice chimed in carelessly, "Yeah, Auntie Grace can be our mom now."
Charlie added, "Once you're gone, we're not going to take you back again."
I took a breath and pressed the papers into Ryan's hand.
"Okay," I said.
The moment I turned around, Ryan's voice went cold.
"In such a hurry, found yourself someone else already?"
I ignored him, too afraid I'd have a heart attack from anger. I just wanted to drag my suitcase and leave.
Ryan crumpled the corner of the agreement in his fist.
"Walk out that door, and you'll never set foot in this house again," he said.
Nanny May, the housekeeper, tried to talk me out of it.
"It's been so many years, ma'am. Don't do this out of pride."
They were all convinced I had nowhere to turn and would come crawling back.
"Thanks, Nanny May," I said, pushing her hand away.
I finally walked out of the cage that had held me for six years.