Clara's

I sat on the cold hardwood floor of the penthouse, my back against the desk. My whole body was shaking so badly that the paper in my hand shaked between my fingers. Tears blurred my vision as they fell onto the legal document resting on my knees.

A marriage certificate.

Active. Valid.

Julian Vance. Victoria Vance. Married.

Every soft touch from last night, every quiet whisper of "our fresh start," every promise about our future—it was all a lie. I wasn't his great romantic reunion. I was a secret. I was the other woman.

The front door chimed softly from the foyer.

"Clara? Sweetheart, I'm home!" Julian's cheerful voice echoed through the penthouse. "I grabbed that Italian takeout from the place you used to love in college! It smells incredible!"

His footsteps moved across the polished floor toward the study. When he turned the corner, carrying two paper bags with a bright smile on his face, he suddenly stopped.

He saw me sitting on the floor. He saw the tears running down my face. Then his eyes fell on the marriage certificate in my hands.

His smile disappeared.

But he didn't panic or run. Instead, he carefully placed the takeout bags on the desk. In seconds, his happy expression changed into one of deep regret.

I quickly got to my feet, my chest rising and falling as I threw the paper at him.

"Explain this!" I screamed, my voice breaking from the humiliation. "Explain why there is an active marriage certificate in your desk with your name on it, Julian!"

The paper fell to the floor between us.

Julian looked down at it, and then, without hesitation, dropped to his knees.

Tears filled his eyes as he looked up at me. He reached toward me, trying to grab the edge of my dress, his face full of pain.

"Clara... please, listen to me," he cried, his voice shaking. "It's not what you think. God, please don't look at me like that!"

"You are married!" I shouted, taking two steps away from him. "You lied to me! You brought me here, you bought this penthouse, you fucked me, you touched me last night—and you have a wife!"

"It's a dead marriage, Clara!" Julian said, looking up at me with pleading eyes. "Victoria and I haven't lived like husband and wife in over three years! It was a business arrangement—a loveless marriage my family forced me into when my company was struggling! We have no intimacy and no love!"

"Why didn't you tell me?!" I screamed, wiping my tears with the back of my hand. My heart felt like it was breaking into pieces. "Why would you hide this from me?! I slept with you, Julian! You turned me into a mistress! You made me a homewrecker!"

"Because I was terrified of losing you!" Julian begged. His voice cracked as he lifted his hands toward me. "The moment I saw you at the reunion, I knew my life meant nothing without you! My lawyers are already working on the divorce papers, Clara! The marriage is over! I was going to tell you as soon as the divorce was final! I didn't want the past to ruin our fresh start!"

He lowered his head until his forehead touched the floor near my feet. His shoulders shook as he cried.

"I'm so sorry... I'm so, so sorry, Clara. I only ever loved you. I swear on my life, you are the only woman I want."

I stood over him in silence, my breathing short and uneven. His words were pulling at the memories I had of him. They made me want to forgive him. They made me want to believe that he was just a desperate man trying to hold on to his first love.

The divorce papers were being prepared.

It was only a business marriage.

It sounded so tragic. So romantic.

But then I remembered the truth.

He had let me into his bed without telling me he was married.

"I'm leaving," I said quietly.

Julian quickly looked up, his eyes red from crying.

"What? Clara, no! Stay here, please—"

"I need space, Julian!" I shouted as I grabbed my coat and purse from the armchair. "Do not follow me. Do not come to my place. I need to be alone!"

I didn't wait for his answer.

I rushed out of the penthouse, took the elevator down, and stepped into the cool night air. I stopped the first yellow cab I saw and climbed inside.

Twenty minutes later, I arrived at my old apartment.

It was dark and quiet. The faint smell of the dried roses Julian had sent days ago still filled the room.

I didn't turn on the lights.

I simply sat on the edge of my bed and wrapped my arms around myself.

My mind was a mess.

Was Julian really a good person who had made a terrible mistake when he was younger? Was he just a desperate man trapped in a loveless marriage, trying to hold on to the only real love he had ever known?

Or were all those tears on the hardwood floor just another act?

I just gave up the thoughts as sleep took over.

___

The next morning, the sunlight coming through my bedroom window felt like a slap.

I had barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the black letters on that marriage certificate.

Married.

The word kept repeating in my head.

I dragged myself out of bed and got ready for work, feeling numb. Just as I picked up my keys from the counter, the doorbell rang.

When I opened the door, I found a delivery courier holding a beautiful breakfast basket filled with fresh pastries, jam, and a thermos of my favorite coffee.

A thick white envelope with my name on it was tucked inside the basket.

I knew the handwriting immediately.

Julian.

I pulled out the letter and read it.

"Clara, my heart is completely shattered after last night. I haven't slept a second. I know you're angry, and I know I should have told you sooner, but please believe me—my marriage to Victoria is nothing more than ink on paper. I am fixing this. I love you, and I will do whatever it takes to earn back your trust. Please let me take care of you today. Yours always, J."

I stared at the letter for a long moment.

There were no tears. No dramatic apologies. Just carefully chosen words meant to calm me down.

I didn't drink the coffee.

I didn't eat the pastries.

I tossed the letter onto the entry table beside the wilted lilies, locked my door, and went to work.

By noon, I was completely exhausted. My eyes were heavy, and I couldn't focus on a single balance sheet.

During lunch, the glass door to my office opened.

Nora walked in carrying two iced lattes. She looked completely recovered from her "hospital visit" the day before.

"Hey, stranger," Nora said softly, placing one of the lattes on my desk before sitting down. She studied my pale face and the dark circles under my eyes. "Okay, spill. You look like you've seen a ghost. What happened? I thought you and Julian were living it up in the penthouse!"

My throat tightened.

I leaned back in my chair and looked at my best friend, feeling desperate.

"Nora... he's married," I whispered.

Nora froze, her coffee halfway to her mouth.

"What?"

"He's married," I repeated, tears burning my eyes. "I found a marriage certificate in his study drawer last night. He's been married to a woman named Victoria for six years. Six years, Nora! He brought me to that penthouse, lied to my face, and made me his side chick!"

Nora gasped loudly and grabbed her chest.

"Oh my God! Clara! No way!" She leaned closer, covering her mouth with both hands. "Julian? Married?! Are you completely sure?!"

"I held the official state record in my hands!" I said, my chest rising and falling quickly. "He admitted it when I confronted him! He dropped to his knees crying, talking about how it's a dead business marriage and he's getting a divorce, but I don't care! He hid it from me! He touched me, Nora! I slept with a married man!"

Nora reached across the desk and rubbed my arm, giving me a sympathetic look.

"Oh, sweetie... I am so, so sorry. That is awful. You must feel so betrayed."

"I feel sick," I whispered, covering my face with my hands.

Nora stayed quiet for a moment and took a sip of her coffee. Then her voice changed slightly.

"But... Clara, think about it rationally for a second," she said softly, looking directly at me. "A lot of wealthy men enter business marriages because of their families, especially in real estate and finance. If he's already getting a divorce for you, doesn't that prove how much he loves you?"

I lowered my hands and stared at her.

"What?"

"I'm just saying!" Nora quickly continued, leaning closer. "He bought you a penthouse! He's willing to leave his current life just to be with his high school sweetheart! Mistakes happen, Clara. He was probably afraid you'd walk away if he told you too soon. Don't throw away a billionaire who adores you over a piece of paper. Give him another chance!"

A cold feeling ran through me.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"A piece of paper?!" I shouted, standing so quickly that my chair rolled backward into the glass wall. "Nora, he lied to me! He manipulated me into his bed! He's a married man, and you're telling me to give him another chance?!"

"Clara, calm down. People are looking—"

"I don't care who's looking!" I snapped, grabbing my purse. "You are supposed to be my best friend! You're supposed to have my back, not defend a man who treated me like a secret mistress!"

"I am thinking about your future!" Nora insisted as she stood.

"No, you're not," I said bitterly. "I need air."

I stormed out of my office, leaving Nora behind with a tight, unreadable expression.

____

The rest of the workday passed in a blur of anger and loneliness. I ignored Nora for the rest of the afternoon and kept myself busy until the clock finally reached 5:00 PM.

I just wanted to go home, lock my door, and disappear.

I grabbed my trench coat, took the elevator down, and walked through the grand revolving doors of Sterling & Croft.

The cool evening air hit my face, but I stopped when I looked toward the street.

Parked by the curb was Julian's sleek black Maybach.

He was leaning against the driver's side door, holding a single white orchid. He wasn't wearing his usual suit jacket. Instead, he had on a dark sweater with the sleeves pushed up. He looked tired, pale, and worried.

The moment he saw me among the employees leaving the building, his face brightened.

He pushed away from the car and walked toward me.

My heart immediately hardened.

I turned away and walked faster down the sidewalk.

"Clara! Please!"

Julian's longer strides quickly caught up with me. He stepped in front of me, blocking my path.

People walking past us glanced over, but he didn't seem to care.

"Julian, move," I said coldly, refusing to look at him.

"I can't just let you walk away from me like this," he pleaded. His eyes were full of desperation. He reached toward my elbow, but I pulled my arm away as if his touch burned me.

"Don't touch me."

"Clara, please. Just five minutes," Julian begged, holding up the white orchid. "I miss you so much. I haven't been able to function all day thinking about how much pain I caused you last night. I'm so sorry. I know I messed up, but please... come back to the penthouse with me. Let's talk about this properly."

"There is nothing to talk about, Julian!" I shouted, stepping around him. "You are a married man! Do you understand that word? Married! You lied to me!"

"It's a dead marriage!" he called after me, staying beside me as I walked quickly toward the subway entrance. "I don't love her, Clara! I haven't touched Victoria in years! I'm already finalizing the divorce! I'll give her whatever money she wants just to be free! I only want you!"

"Then you should have finalized it BEFORE you came looking for me!" I snapped.

I stopped walking and finally looked him directly in the eyes.

"You took away my choice! You made me something I swore I would never become! Leave me alone, Julian! I mean it!"

"Clara, stop being so stubborn!" Julian said, his voice changing slightly. A small edge of anger slipped through his desperate act.

He grabbed my wrist.

"We belong together! You know you felt it last night! You can't just throw away what we have because of pride!"

"Let go of her hand."

The calm, steady voice cut through the noise of the street.

Julian froze.

I turned my head quickly.

Standing right behind us was Dr. Daniel Mercer.

He had his dark coat over one arm, a leather briefcase in his other hand, and his glasses reflected the city lights. He wasn't shouting or trying to act tough, but there was something strong about the way he stood.

Daniel walked toward us, his eyes fixed on Julian's hand around my wrist.

"The lady told you to leave her alone," Daniel said quietly as he stepped into Julian's space. "Take your hand off her. Now."