CHAPTER 1: Phone Call

CLAIRE'S POV,

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and lightning flashed, casting a brief, eerie glow through the dark bedroom. Rain hammered against the windows, but it wasn’t the storm that had pulled me from sleep.

It was a sound I’d come to dread—the special ringtone my husband Leonard had set just for her so that he’d never miss a single call.

The ringtone that always meant he’d leave.

Leonard stirred beside me, reaching for his phone before the sound even had a chance to finish. I didn’t need to check who it was.

It was always her. Charlotte Spring, Leonard’s childhood best friend.

Leonard’s voice was soft and comforting as he sat up in bed.

“Charlotte? What happened?” he asked, the grogginess slipping away as he spoke.

His whole face changed, shifting from sleep to focus, like he’d been waiting for this moment.

“Don’t cry. I’ll be there soon,” he murmured into the phone, his tone gentle and reassuring.

Before I could process it, he threw back the covers and stood, already getting dressed.

“It’s so late,” I said quietly, fighting to keep my voice steady. The past few months, I’d been feeling more exhausted than ever, needing sleep like I never had before. “Do you really have to go?”

He paused, glancing back at me with a fleeting softness.

“Did I wake you?” he asked, his voice low, almost apologetic.

“Not really.” I forced my eyes open a little wider, resisting the urge to reach for his hand. “But… it’s storming so badly out there. Couldn’t you check on her in the morning?”

His face hardened, the softness vanishing as he pulled on his shirt. “Claire, I don’t think you understand,” he said, his voice sharp. “Charlotte needs me.”

I let out a shaky breath, feeling the cold air press into the space between us. “It’s just… dangerous to drive in this weather,” I whispered, casting a quick look at the rain beating against the window. “I just want you to be safe.”

“Safe?” His voice was low and bitter as he shook his head, pulling on his coat with an impatient jerk. “You don’t seem to care that Charlotte’s alone in that house, helpless and unable to do anything without someone she trusts nearby.”

I swallowed hard, the words catching in my throat. “I… I do care, Leo. I just… wish it didn’t always have to be you.”

At that, his face twisted with irritation. “God, Claire, you’re unbelievable. She’s disabled. She doesn’t just wait for help when it’s convenient.”

I stared at him, my chest tightening painfully as his words sank in. It was as if he didn’t even see me—as if my concerns for his safety were nothing more than petty jealousy, an inconvenience standing between him and her.

“She has an entire staff,” I said softly, not daring to look him in the eyes. “Doctors. Nurses. They’re there around the clock."

“Because she’s my friend,” he said, his tone sharper, colder. “And because I care about her, Claire. If that’s too much for you, maybe it’s time you stop acting so damn possessive.”

The words cut like a knife, each one digging deeper than the last. Possessive? I felt the colour drain from my face as I fought to keep my voice steady. “I’m not trying to keep you from helping her, Leo. I just wish you’d—”

“Wish I’d what?” he interrupted, his gaze cold, hard. “Stay here, so you can sulk because you’re jealous of a woman who can barely walk?” He laughed, but it wasn’t a kind laugh. It was mocking, a sound that seemed to hollow me out from the inside.

A dull ache twisted in my chest as I stared at him, unable to find the words.

He grabbed his keys from the dresser. “It’s just another night, Claire. I’ll be back when she’s okay.”

And just like that, he turned and walked out of the room. He didn’t even look back at me as he slammed the door behind him and left.

I glanced over at the clock—3:12 a.m. Our anniversary had passed in silence, swept away like it didn’t matter like I didn’t matter.

The realization hit me with a force I hadn’t expected, and before I could stop myself, a choked sob escaped my lips. I pressed my hands to my mouth, trying to muffle the sound, but the tears came anyway, hot and unrelenting, spilling down my cheeks and soaking into the pillow.

I should’ve been used to it by now. Five years. For five years, Charlotte had called him away on every important day, every precious moment.

Charlotte and Leo had grown up together, and after the accident that had taken away her ability to walk, Leonard had built his life around her needs. He never spoke of it in detail, and his family—his parents and his sister—made it clear they would never speak to me about it. They hated me because I was poor.

The only thing I knew was that he always felt guilty for what happened to her.

In his heart, Charlotte’s needs had always been primary.

A wave of dizziness hit me as I lay there, and my hand drifted to the drawer beside the bed, where a small, folded piece of paper lay hidden—a pregnancy report I hadn’t yet shown him. I wanted to show him tonight.

I hadn’t planned to get pregnant. We’d been careful since we got married, and Leo had made it clear he didn’t want children, didn’t want anything that might distract him from taking care of Charlotte. But somehow, fate had other plans.

The moment I found out, I never felt so happy. I always dreamed of having a baby with my lover. The little life overcame so much to come into our lives.

And a fragile hope had sparked in my heart. Maybe a child—our child—would make him stay more.

With all that happened and a severe headache rising, I had no illusions that I’d fall back asleep, but exhaustion and the pregnancy hormones claimed me anyway, pulling me under as I cradled the thought of our child in my mind.

As the first light of dawn crept into the room, I reached out, instinctively touching the cold, untouched sheets beside me. He hadn’t come back. I knew about it even before he left that he wouldn't be coming back.

I grabbed my phone and dialled Leonard’s number. It rang a few times before the call connected, but it wasn’t Leonard’s voice that answered.

A familiar female voice greeted me.

“Shh,” Charlotte whispered on the other end. “Don’t wake him up. He’s still sleeping.”

The phone nearly slipped from my hand, a sick feeling coiling in my stomach.

Were they sleeping in the same bed?