Finley owned plenty of properties, but only one had Claire's name on it—a house in the next neighborhood. The Lloyd family gave it to her when they found out she was pregnant.

Now, with the divorce looming, Claire just wanted some peace. She didn't care if it was Finley or Renee; she wasn't in the mood to deal with either of them.

"Isn't there a house in the neighboring community?" she asked coolly. "Why not let Miss Slutsky stay there? It'd be more convenient."

Finley frowned, caught off guard. "That's your house."

"If she needs it, she can use it," Claire said flatly before turning to head upstairs.

"You're not having any pumpkin soup?" Finley called after her.

"No."

She hated pumpkins—and pumpkin soup most of all.

When she came back down later, the living room was empty except for Emma, the maid, who was clearing the table.

"Mrs. Lloyd, Mr. Lloyd and Miss Slutsky went to the house in the neighboring community," Emma said quietly.

"Okay," Claire replied, barely glancing up.

Not long after, her phone buzzed. It was Finley.

"I'm not coming home tonight. Renee's afraid of the dark, so I'll stay here with her."

"Alright."

Claire's calm reply threw Finley off. Feeling a flicker of guilt, he tried again. "I'm sorry, Claire. Renee's still like a kid—afraid of the dark, scared of ghosts. I can't leave her alone. Tomorrow's your birthday. I'll be back to celebrate, okay?"

"Okay." Claire didn't bother with anything else and hung up.

She glanced around the house, her eyes settling on the walls. They were covered with pictures of children—Finley's mother's doing. She'd put them up to encourage Claire during her pregnancy. Paulina had even brought endless herbal remedies to help her conceive.

It hadn't been easy. Claire had struggled to get pregnant, taking those remedies for months before it finally happened. But now the baby was gone, and so was her marriage. Those pictures didn't mean anything anymore.

Claire stood on a chair and started ripping them down, one by one.

Emma gasped. "Mrs. Lloyd, what are you doing? Please be careful—you should think of the baby!"

"It's fine."

She tore every last photo off the wall, stuffed them into a garbage bag, and handed it to Emma. "Throw this out."

Then she picked up her phone and called Raoul, her lawyer, asking him to come over the next day.

By the time Raoul arrived, he had already drafted a contract based on her instructions.

"Ms. Carlson, are you sure you don't want anything?" he asked.

"Yes, nothing at all."

She wanted no ties to Finley. The house, the car, the money—it wasn't worth it. She had her own means and didn't need anything from him.

"Alright. Take a look. If it's good, I'll print it out."

"Thank you. Let me know when it's ready for me to sign. And don't mention the divorce to Finley yet."

"Got it." Raoul hesitated, like he had something to say, but left it alone.

Just as Raoul was leaving, Finley walked in.

Raoul had been handling some business for his company, so seeing him here caught Finley off guard. "What are you doing here?"

"Mrs. Lloyd asked me to stop by," Raoul said smoothly before slipping out.

Finley turned to Claire. "Why was Raoul here?"

"Nothing important."

She glanced at him briefly. He looked worn out, with dark circles under his eyes.

"Didn't sleep well last night?" she asked casually.

"Renee wanted to watch horror movies," Finley said with a small laugh. "She's scared of them but wouldn't stop insisting. We ended up staying up all night."

He laughed again, completely unaware of how fondly he was talking about Renee.

Claire just watched him. It had been ages since she'd seen that smile. The last time was probably the day she told him she was pregnant.

"Why didn't you rest there for a while?" Claire asked.

"It's not my home," Finley said, shrugging off his jacket and handing it to her like it was automatic. "Besides, it's your birthday. I should spend it with you."

Claire took the jacket without a word, the sharp, cloying scent of perfume hitting her instantly. She placed it on the couch, keeping some distance between them.

"When's your next prenatal appointment?" Finley asked, stepping closer. His hand settled on her stomach, heavy and unwelcome. "Baby, do you miss Daddy? Next time, Daddy will go with Mommy to the appointment. We'll see you. Isn't that exciting?"

Claire froze, staring at his bright smile, feeling nothing but cold. Exciting? Was he serious? There wasn't even a baby left to see, thanks to him.

"Next Monday. Will you be free?"

"I will," he promised, sliding his arms around her from behind. "I'm sorry, Claire. I know I've been distant, but it's not what you think. Renee and I are just friends. You're so jealous sometimes. Like the other day—you embarrassed me in front of my friends, didn't you?"

Her back stiffened, and she stayed quiet.

Three years of marriage, and he'd had the audacity to propose to Renee in front of everyone. How was she supposed to feel?

Sensing her silence, Finley switched tactics. "How about this? It's your birthday. Wherever you want to go, I'll take you. Deal?"

She didn't answer immediately, memories of an old promise creeping back. He'd once said he'd take her to the Maldives to see the ocean—a promise never kept.

"I want to go to the Maldives," she said. "You promised me."

Finley frowned. "That's too far. It'd take forever to plan. How about somewhere closer? I'll book a cute B&B. We'll be back by Monday."

"I was kidding," Claire said with a faint smile. She wasn't surprised. Renee always came first.

Later, Finley booked a fancy restaurant for dinner. Claire didn't want to go but figured, why not? It'd probably be their last meal together.

At the table, Finley handed her the menu with a smile that looked genuine if you didn't know better. "Order whatever you like."

Before she could even scan it, he rattled off suggestions. "Let's do the herb-crusted lamb, escargot, foie gras... oh, and a bottle of red."

Claire frowned. None of those were things she liked. Did he even know her anymore? Maybe he never did.

To top it off, Finley didn't even eat lamb.

Before she could call him out, Renee showed up, sliding into a chair. She whipped off her mask, all smiles.

"Claire! Happy birthday! I was filming nearby and skipped lunch. Finley didn't want me to starve, so he invited me. You don't mind, right?"

Claire's lips parted, but before she could get a word out, the waiter appeared, serving plates.

Renee lit up. "Wow, all my favorite foods! I'm starving. Hope you don't mind if I dive in!"

She didn't wait for permission, grabbing a fork and tearing into the meal with zero hesitation.

Finley watched her, his face softening. "Of course, they're all your favorites. I ordered them just for you. Take your time."

"Thanks, Finley! You're the best!" Renee beamed, then threw in, "Love you!"

A second later, she backtracked, glancing at Claire with a quick, practiced laugh. "Oops! Sorry, Claire. Habit. I say it to my fans all the time. You're cool with it, right?"

"Why would Claire mind?" Finley said. "She knows exactly what kind of relationship we have."

He stood and grabbed a napkin, gently wiping the corner of Renee's lips. "You little glutton, how do you still eat like a messy kid?"

A wave of nausea hit Claire so hard, she had to look away. "I'm not feeling well," she muttered. "I'm heading home."

Finley glanced at her, a flicker of concern crossing his face. "Is it the baby again? This little one really doesn't behave, huh?"

For a split second, Claire thought he might walk her out. Instead, he said, "If you're not feeling well, go ahead. I'll come back after Renee finishes eating."

She stared at him, biting back the bitter laugh bubbling in her throat. Even pregnant, she came second to Renee.

Suddenly, the fire alarm blared. People started shouting, "Fire! Run!"

Before Claire could react, the crowd surged toward the exits, the restaurant erupting into chaos. Her mind blanked for a moment. Instinctively, her eyes searched for Finley.

But she saw was him scooping Renee into his arms, rushing toward the exit without so much as a glance back.

It turned out to be a false alarm—just someone smoking in the bathroom. People trickled back to their tables, shaking off the scare like it was nothing.

Including Finley and Renee.

Renee leaned into him dramatically, her arms wrapped around his. "Finley, that was terrifying! Thank goodness you were there!"

Finley smiled softly, running his fingers through her hair. "I told you—I'll always protect you."

Claire stared at Finley, disappointment hitting her like ice water, sharp and numbing. It twisted her stomach as the memories flooded back—three years ago, that stupid hike.

Renee was about to leave for some trip abroad, and Finley insisted they all go together. Halfway up the trail, Renee pulled Claire aside, pretending to have something urgent to say. Instead, she picked a fight. Then, like it was scripted, she threw herself down the path in a dramatic tumble.

When Finley showed up, he didn't ask a single question. He just started yelling, accusing her of pushing Renee.

Later, on the way down, a monkey jumped out. Claire froze, cornered and too stunned to move. Finley didn't notice—he was too busy shielding Renee, holding her like she was made of glass.

That was when Claire got it. She wasn't his priority. She never had been.

Back at the table, Renee strutted over, her hand flying to her mouth in fake shock. "Oh no, Claire! We completely forgot about you. Are you okay? Why didn't you run?"

Only then did Finley glance her way. Guilt flickered across his face as he walked over, taking her hand. "Claire, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. It's just... Renee's a celebrity. She can't afford to get hurt—"

"I get it," Claire cut him off, her voice calm. Too calm. She'd heard this excuse one too many times.

"You're not mad at me, are you?" Finley asked.

Claire slipped her hand from his and forced a faint smile. "No."

"Claire, you're amazing." He seemed almost impressed—like he expected her to fight back or make a scene. Instead, she didn't even flinch.

"Don't worry," he promised. "I swear I'll never ignore you again."

She dropped her gaze. Promises, she realized, were just another kind of lie.

Then Renee started coughing.

"Renee, what's wrong?" Finley rushed to her side. "Are you okay?"

"My throat... That lamb—it's making me feel... ugh, so scratchy."

Finley turned back to Claire, his concern for Renee all over his face. "She's not feeling well. I'll take her home first."

Claire nodded. "Go ahead."

"Good girl." He kissed her forehead like she was a kid before rushing off to support Renee as they left together.