Chapter 4

"Claire." Richard's voice thundered behind me.

He yanked me up, his eyes blazing with anger. "Is this how you call yourself a mother? Talking nonsense right in front of our kid?"

I looked up at his tense jawline and suddenly let out a laugh. "I suppose I really can't play the role of Mrs. Shaw.

"Why don't you just marry Ms. Lane already? She's obviously much better at raising kids than I ever could be."

With that, I turned and headed for the door.

"Claire," Richard called out.

He grabbed my hand, as if he had something more to say.

But right then, Ethan's smartwatch rang. He excitedly urged, "Dad, it's Olivia calling on video."

Richard let go of my hand in an instant.

I watched as he walked over to answer the call, his face instantly lighting up with a smile.

He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, as if expecting to see me tense up or get upset, just like always.

But I gave him nothing.

I walked silently to the guest room and locked the door behind me.

The June sunlight pierced through the cracks in the curtains, but I felt like I was trapped in a world of ice.

I shut my eyes, forcing myself to drift off.

In a haze, I dreamed of myself at twenty-two, standing by the window of the piano room, watching as movers hauled away the Steinway I'd grown up with.

It was the piano I'd played for my last solo concert before getting married, its tone flowing like moonlight.

Richard showed up in the doorway, his uniform sharp, his voice emotionless. "Military wives shouldn't draw too much attention. I've already told my aide to cancel your tour contract."

I stared into his expressionless eyes, every explanation and plea stuck in my throat.

That piano never came back. It was like a piece of me was forever frozen in that twilight.

Then I dreamed of the day Ethan was born. It was a breech birth, and after a long, agonizing labor, I lay on the hospital bed, utterly exhausted.

The doctor spoke softly, "Your pelvis has been injured. Long hours at the piano will be painful from now on. Recovering will take tremendous willpower."

But before all that, I could play for three hours straight at the Vieswess Golden Hall, my fingers soaring over the keys like birds gliding across a lake. My music could move thousands to tears.

But at that moment, just one birth might have clipped my wings for good.

In my dream, countless Claires were sobbing as they spoke to me.

"Cover your ears. Don't listen to those voices that keep putting you down.

"Close your eyes. Stop looking for comfort that was never yours to begin with.

"Keep moving forward. Don't look back.

"I won't look back."

From the moment I pushed the divorce papers in front of him, I left myself no way out.

After that day, I cut all ties with the Shaw Residence and moved into the apartment the orchestra set up for me.

I had performances, rehearsals, and teaching. Music took over my life once more. No more tiptoeing around anyone's routine or moods, my world was finally my own again.

After I announced I'd be heading overseas with the orchestra, Mary handed me her phone, practically bouncing with excitement. "You're trending everywhere. Everyone's calling it your grand comeback."

I took the phone and spotted a barely noticeable alert: [Richard skipped an important drill. No one knows why.]

I swiped it away, expressionless, and handed the phone back. "All the more reason for us to go all out."

"But..." Mary hesitated. "Mr. Shaw reached out to me again. He wants to know if you'd be willing to take his call."

"No need," I said, adjusting my earrings in the mirror. "There's nothing left for us to talk about."

"Aren't you worried Mr. Shaw will lose his cool over this?"

I chuckled. "Why would he freak out? Is he suddenly upset that someone he never cared about finally stopped caring about him?"

Mary was speechless.

Yeah, what did he have to be anxious about?

Was he uneasy that the person who always waited for him at home was gone?

Was he anxious that the woman who was just an accessory to his family had her own career?

But wasn't this what he always wanted?