Falling For My Ex's Dad (Clarissa and Gabriel) novel Chapter 180

Clairessa’s POV

Adrian's hands shot out, steadying me before I could stumble back. “Whoa—where are you dashing off to?” he asked, eyes searching mine.

I opened my mouth, but no words came. My throat closed around them. “I—I just…” I stuttered, glancing away.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, voice softer now. “Talk to me.”

I tried to pull away, but his grip on my hand tightened—not enough to hurt, just enough to hold me there.

“Nothing. I just need to be alone,” I muttered, trying again to slip free.

“No, you don’t.” His voice was firmer this time. “You don’t need to be alone right now. Something happened. I can see it all over your face. Please, talk to me.”

The kindness in his voice made something in me crack. But I couldn’t tell him the truth—where I was going, what had just happened. And I knew if I said too much, he’d want to follow.

“I just…” I exhaled shakily. “I need to go back to my apartment. I want to see what’s left. What I can salvage.”

Adrian’s expression darkened with concern, but he didn’t press—not yet.

“I’ll come with you,” he said, like it was already decided.

“No—Adrian, you don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t,” he cut in gently. “But I want to.”

“Adrian, please. This is something I have to do alone.”

But he wasn’t budging. “Claire, I’m not letting you go there by yourself. Not like this. I’m coming with you, and you can’t talk me out of it.”

I saw it in his face—the resolve. He wasn’t giving me a choice.

And I was too tired to fight. I didn’t have the strength.

We got into the car in silence. My thoughts raced, numb and heavy all at once.

I stared out the window, panic rising in my chest. My mind spun in circles, but all I could think about was my apartment. I hadn't even seen it since the fire. I didn’t know what to expect.

I had to figure out my life—rebuild it, piece by piece. I needed to get out of this web spun by father and son before it swallowed me whole.

When we pulled up to the building, my heart sank. My breath caught.

It was worse than I imagined.

Parts of the structure stood, hollow and blackened, nothing like what the building used to be.

I hastily got out of the car, and Adrian followed closely behind.

The front entrance of the building was roped off, but I stepped over it anyway. I needed to see it with my own eyes.

The hallway that once led to my cozy sanctuary was now a corridor of devastation. I could barely recognize the door.

When I reached my apartment, the door was gone completely. Only broken remains of the frame stood, hanging off one hinge.

I stepped inside.

Or what used to be inside.

The living room was destroyed. The couch—burned down to its springs.

My bookshelf had collapsed, pages scattered and singed. The walls were blackened with soot.

I moved through what used to be my home, eyes wide, breathing shallow.

My bedroom door was barely standing. I pushed it open.

And saw everything.

My clothes had turned to ashes. My pictures—gone. The bedframe was charred, the mattress consumed by flames.

But it was the corner of the room that made me fall to my knees.

“My laptop…” I whispered. “Oh my God…”

The metal shell was bent out of shape, barely recognizable—a pile of ash and melted plastic. My Hart app. My saved files. My photos. My everything.

I broke.

“Oh my God…” My voice cracked, barely audible. “Why? Why me?”

The sobs ripped through me before I could stop them. I covered my face with my hands, but the tears still poured.

The pain in my chest was unbearable. “Why did it have to be my apartment? Why now?”

Adrian knelt beside me, wrapping his arms around my shaking frame. “I’m so sorry this happened to you, Claire,” he said quietly, brushing my hair out of my face with gentle fingers. “But I’m thankful—so damn thankful—you weren’t here when it happened. I’m glad you’re alive. You hear me? That’s all that matters.”

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