Chapter 7

"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.