Claire’s POV

ONE DAY LATER.

I went to the hospital early for work; the sterile white walls offered a peaceful ambiance early that morning. My jerk husband hasn’t called me yet, but I don’t care anymore.

I sat in my swivel chair while staring at the blank screen of my computer until my phone buzzed, and I raised my eyebrow as I read the caller’s ID—LUCAS.

I picked up the phone and answered his call with a blunt voice, “Yes?”

“I saw…”

“You saw what?” I asked as if his reaction didn’t matter to me anymore.

“I read the miscarriage report on the table. Why didn't you tell me about it?!” he asked angrily, his voice filled with frustration.

"Sorry, I forgot. Of course, you were busy last night," I said sarcastically. "You had an important meeting and I don't want to bother you."

He snarled, "We could have saved the baby if you had told me about it!"

Sadly, my husband was once again babbling nonsense and blaming me for everything.

"Really? Are you sure about it? You were with May last night. You lied to me, Lucas."

Lucas paused and sighed, "I was not with her last night. Are you jealous again? Or maybe you lost the baby because of your nonsense jealousy?" His denial was like a wall separating us in this tense confrontation.

"Nonsense? You don't know what happened last night, Lucas. You weren't there! You'd promised me you'd come back, and I waited for hours, but you didn't!" My voice trembled.

And he raised his voice, "Because I was in a meeting with the board!"

"Oh, absolutely!" I said, dripping with sarcasm. "You were in a meeting, and not spending the night with May, right?"

"How many times have I told you—"

I cut him off, unable to stomach another lame excuse. The line went dead, and I sighed in frustration. I took a deep breath, inhaling and exhaling the anger simmering inside me.

My phone buzzed on the table, a text message from Lucas. I thought he finally understood me, but I was wrong again.

"I'm sorry. But let's forget about it."

"An apology without remorse." I whispered to myself as I let out a bitter scoff.

He sent me another message: "But why has my shirt not been ironed yet? And you don't even prepare breakfast for me."

My frustration boiled over again. Here I was, reeling from the loss of our child, and all he could think of was his basic needs. What a jerk!

A sudden knock on my clinic door startled me. "Come in," I said.

The Nurse stepped in and smiled. "Good morning, Dr. Claire! The Supervisor wants to see you."

"Oh? Uh, yeah, thanks. I'll be right there."

The Nurse left, and after a few seconds, I followed her down the hallway and into the Supervisor's office.

"Hi, Claire," he said as I entered. "Come on in."

He gestured to a chair and smiled, his fingers crossed on the desk. "I have some good news for you."

My heart skipped a beat. "What is it, Dr. Cullen?"

"I was wondering if you'd be interested in pursuing further training in Canada," he explained. "Our hospital is excellent, but they offer a program for representative training from each affiliated institution. That's what I have in mind for you. If you agree, I'll handle all the arrangements."

Surprise surged through me. Going abroad for training has always been a dream and I wouldn’t give up on any chance for the sake of my jerk husband anymore.

Tears welled up in my eyes. "Of course, Dr. Cullen! I'd be honored to accept your offer. Thank you so much!"

He smiled, “You still have time to prepare.”

******

As it got dark, I cleaned everything on my desk and put all the reports for the next doctor who would temporarily replace me on file in the next few months. I still need a lot of patients to attend before the night ends.

Then suddenly, my phone rang, and it was Lucas, again.

"What?"

"What time will you be here?" he asked, a hint of impatience in his voice.

"I won't be coming home tonight, I got a lot of work—"

But he angrily cut me off, asking, "What do you mean by that? I haven't seen you all day, and now you're not coming home?!"

Another sigh escaped my lips, heavier this time, "Oh, just like you, I'm busy too."

"Are you mad at me, Claire?"

Was I mad?

The truth was, anger seemed a distant echo. His constant lies and inconsideration had chipped away at my feelings, leaving behind a numb ache.

And I finally answered him, "I don't know..." my voice barely whispered, but I knew he could feel it.

Claire’s POV

In the past, whenever I asked Lucas a question about May, he would always find it annoying. Yet even though I no longer give a hoot, he still finds me annoying, and I have no idea how to respond to his outbursts.

After I checked on all my patients for tonight, I stretched my arms and legs. I returned to my office and put the medical records file on my table. I yawned and squeezed my eyes, but I still didn’t want to go home—it was not home anymore. I found it unbearable to return home and see him there.

As I lay down on my long, sky-blue couch, I tried to close my eyes and let myself drift off to sleep.

Then, the loud buzzing of my phone woke me up. I got a call from Lucas at midnight.

"Hello?" A drowsy murmur escaped my lips as I responded.

"Claire! Finally, you answered my call after calling you so many times! My stomach hurts, can you come home?" he asked.

“What? Did you just call me because you have a stomach ache?” I asked while massaging my temple; this guy gave me so much headache.

“Yes, I need your help, you’re my wife and you’re a doctor, right? You're supposed to take care of me…” he said, his voice filled with accusation.

I sighed, "Okay, fine. There's over the counter meds, try taking it and it will ease the pain."

He suddenly raised his voice, "I don't even know where it is! Can you just please come home?!"

I scoffed softly, realizing that I needed rest and that I had married a useless man. "I just finished my twelve-hour shift, Lucas. I can't come home just because you have stomach pain. Call an ambulance or the pharmacy, okay? Stomach pain won't kill you."

Because I was too tired to hear him whining all over and over again, I ended the call without hearing his reply.

***

The next morning, I woke up and drove my car to our penthouse in the city. As I arrived at the top floor, I couldn’t help but sigh as I looked around. Lucas was waiting for me inside. He was sitting in the dining area, his dark expression indicating he was mad at me.

He looked like a toddler waiting for his mommy to come home. He stood up and asked, “Why don’t you care for me anymore?”

“What are you talking about? I just came home, and you asked me this question?” I asked calmly, then put my bag on the table.

The room filled with tension, and he asked, “You were not like this before.”

“I care, Lucas. But I’m busy. I have a life, too. I work all day and night, and I’m so tired... I want you to understand that." My voice trembled, frustration seeping through my words. He had no idea that those words showed how I really felt about him.

“This isn’t about you being tired! This is about you not caring me anymore!”

My mind wandered back to the past. He knew I would do anything to make him feel better because I cared so much about him in the past. I even went to his workplace just to give him some medicine, but to my surprise, he was only having fun with his friends and even mocking at me. He shooed me away like I was a real embarrassment for his image.

I opened the door to my bedroom, and he stopped me. “Is this because of May? That’s why you’re like this? Huh?!”

I didn’t answer.

“Look, Claire! There’s nothing between me and May.”

I nodded my head and replied calmly, “Okay."

Even though I wanted to speak more, I just tried to stop myself— stopping myself from speaking all the painful unspoken thoughts in my mind.

And when he eyed how I just reacted, he disappointingly walked away and slammed the door shut, cursing angrily, "F*ck!"