The Wife he threw Away (Claire and Lucian) novel Chapter 165

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY-FIVE CLAIRE’S POV

I woke up to movement outside my apartment- soft footsteps and muffled voices.

For one horrible second, panic flashed through me.

Was Eva here again?

Or perhaps it was the press with their incessant questions.

Then I remembered.

Lucian.

My stomach tightened immediately.

I sat up slowly in bed, still exhausted from everything that had happened yesterday, and stared toward

the front door.

Another quiet sound followed.

A woman’s voice.

Camilla.

Relief washed over me.

I had called her barely twenty minutes earlier after finally working up the courage to look through the peephole again and finding Lucian still there.

Still asleep against the wall outside my apartment.

Still alone, still wearing the same clothes.

And still shivering.

I had lasted exactly three minutes before guilt gnawed at me enough to make the call.

Carefully, I approached the door and unlocked it just enough to peer outside.

Camilla was crouched slightly in front of Lucian now, speaking softly to him while he slowly woke.

Even half-asleep, he looked… exhausted.

Drained in a way I had never truly seen from him before.

Well, I had never seen the Dhark empire fall before either.

Then Camilla noticed me standing there, and immediately narrowed her eyes at me.

“You left him outside all night?”

Heat crawled instantly into my face.

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7-”

“It’s freezing.”

Her tone wasn’t exactly cruel.

But it was disapproving enough to make me feel like the bad person.

“He was drunk,” I answered, although I knew it was a weak defense.

Camilla gave me a look.

“And?”

I opened my mouth.

Then closed it again.

Because honestly-

I didn’t know.

Honestly, I didn’t let Lucian in because I was afraid.

Not of him.

But of myself.

Camilla sighed softly before helping Lucian properly to his feet.

He looked disoriented for a moment, dark eyes lifting slowly toward me.

The second they met mine, something painful flickered across his face.

It didn’t look like anger or resentment.

Just… hurt.

Great, now that felt even worse.

“Come on,” Camilla murmured gently to him.

And for once, Lucian didn’t argue or resist.

Perhaps he is making changes afterall.

I stepped back from the doorway quietly while Camilla guided him toward the elevator.

A moment later, I heard their movement fade down the hall.

Then complete silence.

I closed the door slowly after I was sure they had gone, and leaned against it.

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AND SIXTY FIVE CLAR

My chest hurt badly.

But still, I told myself I had done the right thing.

I had to.

Nathaniel had been there for me through everything.

The attack, Margot, all the chaos my life had been these past few months.

He had even introduced me to his family.

To his mother.

That wasn’t casual.

That wasn’t temporary.

And whatever dangerous emotional spiral existed between Lucian and me-

I had to stop feeding it.

Even if part of me still wanted to.

By the time I left for work that morning, I was still as exhausted as I had been last night.

I tried unsuccessfully to organize my thoughts whilst driving to work.

Then my phone rang.

Professor Mason Grant.

I answered immediately.

“Professor Grant?”

“Claire,” he said quietly. “Are you at work yet?”

“Almost.”

“I need to meet with you and Nathaniel at Sinclair & Co.”

Something in his tone made my stomach tighten instantly.

“Is Margot okay?”

“She’s stable.”

Relief flickered briefly through me.

“But I found something.”

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An hour later, Nathaniel and I sat across from Mason inside one of Sinclair & Co’s conference rooms.

I

Nathaniel looked tense immediately.

So did I.

Mason placed a weathered document folder carefully onto the table between us.

“The police recently released the remaining belongings they recovered from the accident,” he explained quietly. “Most of the documents were destroyed anyways.”

His expression darkened slightly.

“But this survived.”

He slid the papers toward me first.

A small frown formed on my face before I even opened the file.

Then I froze immediately.

My breath caught in my throat and my palms immediately grew sweaty.

Infertility diagnosis.

“Severe uterine scarring”

The wording, the medical terminology, the treatment recommendations.

Every single line looked horrifyingly familiar.

For one humiliating second, I thought it was mine.

Heat flooded my face instantly.

And beside me, Nathaniel shifted slightly too.

Then finally-

my eyes moved upward toward the patient information.

And the world seemed to stop there and then.

“Eva Sterling.”

Nathaniel leaned forward immediately, to get a better look at the document.

Perhaps he thought his eyes had deceived him.

“What?”

I stared at the name again.

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