Chapter 4

"Do you love her?"

My question brought the entire room to a quiet halt.

Madison looked at Daniel, tears still in her eyes, but clearly waiting for his answer.

Daniel looked at her, then looked at me. "Discussing this right now is meaningless."

"Of course it is to you," I said. "Because no matter how you answer, you're not the one who gets hurt."

Madison spoke softly, "He said he loved me."

Daniel whipped around to face her. "Can you just go back first?"

"Why?" Her voice trembled. "You told me just earlier that after tonight, we wouldn't have to hide anymore."

It felt as if a dull blade was slicing across my chest, but strangely enough, I didn't shed another tear.

"Are you two done talking?" I held the doorknob. "If you're done, please leave my home."

Madison didn't move.

Her hand remained on her lower belly, as though an entry pass into this home already resided there.

"Claire, I know you hate me," she said. "But the baby is innocent."

"Don't use a baby to lecture me on what's innocent." I stared at her. "In these eleven months, you've come here five times. You sat at my dining table, ate the food I cooked, and listened to Sophie talk about her troubles at school. Back then, you knew what you were doing too."

Her face turned pale, and she finally lowered her eyes.

Daniel stepped between us. "Enough.Madison, go back to the hotel first.I'll come find you tomorrow."

"And then?" She grabbed his arm. "How long are you going to make me wait this time?"

He didn't pull away.

This tiny gesture woke me up more than that kissing photo ever could.

For the past eighteen years, as long as I touched his hand in front of others, he would always hold mine naturally.

Now, he reserved that same gentleness for another woman.

"Get out, "I said.

Madison glanced at Daniel, as if verifying whether he would chase after her.In the end, she wrapped her coat tightly around herself and left.

I closed the door.

Daniel lowered his voice immediately. "You shouldn't have treated her like that. She's pregnant, she can't get too worked up."

I turned around and looked at him in disbelief.

"You are in our home, asking me to cater to your mistress's emotions?"

"I just hope you can be a bit more mature."

"Then tell me, what counts as mature? Preparing a guest room for her, or packing up my clothes so she can move in?"

"Nobody is asking you to move out."

"So you plan on having two women at the same time?"

He irritably loosened his tie. "Things aren't that simple. I can't just ignore that child, but I never said I was abandoning you, Sophie, or Noah."

Abandoning.

So in his mind, continuing to stay by my side was no longer love—it was an act of mercy.

"I'll ask one last time." I looked into his eyes. "Do you love her?"

Daniel was silent for a long time.

Long enough for the tiny bit of lingering hope in my heart to finally go out.

"I don't know if that's love," he said. "But when I'm with her, I feel like I'm alive."

My fingernails dug into my palm.

Over eighteen years, I helped him pay off debt, took care of his sick father, and celebrated his every promotion.

I gave birth to two children, and had lost a third alone in the bathroom.

Yet in his eyes, a life with me was equivalent to death.

"Tomorrow morning, I'm taking the kids and leaving."

Daniel froze for a second, then shook his head. "Don't speak out of anger. Where could you even go? This is your home."

"It used to be."

"Claire, you can't leave this home, and you can't leave me."

A faint sound came from the staircase.

I raised my head and saw Sophie standing barefoot on the steps, tears streaming down her face.

"Mom," she choked out, "does Dad not love you anymore?"