Never Getting Her Back novel Chapter 8

After leaving the hospital, Clara got a call from the staff letting her know her visa had been approved. She gathered all her documents and started packing.

Each day, she tore a page off her desk calendar, watching as the stack shrank to just a few sheets. The year was almost over. And soon, she'd be leaving the city she had called home for over 20 years.

For that entire week, Damon never came home once. Instead, Giselle flooded Clara's phone with one taunting message after another.

Seven days before Clara's departure, Giselle sent a video. In it, Damon was down on one knee. He was gently massaging her calf with painstaking care.

As Clara watched, she tossed every gift she had ever bought for him straight into the trash.

Five days before she left, Giselle sent photos of Damon handing her a box of jewelry and slipping a ring onto her finger himself.

Without a second thought, Clara smashed their wedding photo into pieces and threw it straight into the fire.

Three days before she left, she received an audio recording where Damon was murmuring Giselle's name in his sleep. His voice was full of longing.

Clara gathered every gift he had ever given her during their marriage and donated them. The villa she had once called home was slowly being emptied. Her small luggage was nearly packed and ready to go.

Noticing how thoroughly she was clearing out the house, the housekeeper grew concerned and asked her more than once what was going on.

Clara smiled, her tone light. "I'm just getting a divorce."

"Mr. Croft agreed to it?"

Agreed? Clara wasn't sure. But she figured Damon would probably be thrilled if he saw the divorce agreement. After all, Giselle occupied his every thought and had all his attention.

The day before she left, Giselle messaged Clara again. This time, it wasn't a photo of Damon. It was his parents. They stood around Giselle's hospital bed, all smiles, chatting like family.

Clara felt nothing. She still didn't reply. Instead, she opened her contacts and deleted Giselle, Damon, and everyone connected to them.

The day Clara left, the first snow of the season arrived. She carried the diaries and unsent love letters she had sorted through the night before into the garden.

The orange glow of the flames flickered across her face as those tender teenage memories turned to ash. She tipped her head back and watched the flurries swirl and drift down.