The Wife he threw Away (Claire and Lucian) novel Chapter 167

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY-SEVEN LUCIAN’S POV

Nathaniel’s call came just after midnight.

I almost ignored it.

Because honestly, at that point, every call felt like another disaster waiting to happen.

Another investor withdrawing or another division bleeding money.

Maybe even another board member questioning whether I was still capable of holding Dhark Holdings together while the world watched it collapse.

I sat alone in my office at the mansion with my laptop open in front of me, as unread emails crowded the

screen.

The whiskey from earlier still sat unfinished beside my hand.

Rain pressed softly against the windows again.

Everything felt cold lately.

Camilla believed I had caught a small cold the night I spent outside Claire’s apartment.

But that was the least of my problems.

“What now?” I said as I answered the phone.

Nathaniel didn’t respond immediately.

And that silence was what made my chest tighten first.

Then he finally spoke.

“We confirmed the report.”

I frowned slightly. “What report?”

Another pause.

“The infertility report.” He stated. “It wasn’t Claire’s.”

Everything inside me stopped- completely.

Nathaniel’s continued, his voice quieter now.

“She was never infertile.”

Something inside me started burning.

My grip tightened slowly around the phone.

No.

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NEWED AND SOXTY SEMEN

No no no-

My mind rejected it instantly.

But memory hit too fast afterward.

Claire sitting beside me in that hospital all those months ago.

Claire crying silently in the car afterward because she thought she failed me.

Claire locking herself up in her room.

And finally, Claire apologizing.

Apologizing for something that wasn’t her fault. Apologizing for something that wasn’t even true.

I closed my eyes hard.

And suddenly every moment started replaying differently in my head.

The board pressuring us for an heir.

My frustration.

The distance that slowly formed between us afterward.

Eva slipping perfectly into those cracks.

And Claire-

carrying guilt that was never hers to carry.

Nathaniel spoke again, anger sharpening his voice now.

“She spent years believing something was wrong with her.”

I swallowed hard.

“Lucian…”

A pause.

“Your wife suffered because of this.”

Your wife.

Not ex-wife.

Not Claire.

Your wife.

Something inside my chest twisted violently.

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The grief came first.

Because all I could think about was Claire.

Claire apologizing to me in that hospital hallway while I emotionally shut down instead of holding my wife together.

I laughed once under my breath.

A horrible sound.

“She thought she failed me,” I said quietly.

Nathaniel didn’t answer.

Because he knew.

We both did.

Another silence stretched between us before Nathaniel spoke again.

“She’s exhausted,” he said finally. “I’m taking her home.”

That one landed too.

Because he was the one beside her now.

Not me.

He was the one protecting her.

Comforting her.

Loving her properly.

And somehow I had handed him that place myself.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Nathaniel said shortly before ending the call.

The line disconnected.

I sat there alone afterward.

Completely motionless.

Then another memory hit.

Claire smiling softly years ago while showing me a nursery design on her tablet.

Tentative.

Hopeful.

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A

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And me-

too distracted by work to notice how much courage it took for her to show me that dream.

Something inside me broke quietly.

A knock sounded against the office door moments later and Tessa stepped inside carefully as usual, holding another file.

“Sir, the Singapore investors are reconsidering their position and-”

“I don’t care.”

The words came out flat. L

Tessa stopped speaking.

I could tell she was surprised.

Probably because this company had been my entire life for years.

And now?

I genuinely couldn’t bring myself to care about another stock drop.

Not while this sat heavy in my mind.

Tessa studied me carefully, obviously concerned.

Then she quietly set the file down before leaving again without saying another word.

I barely noticed.

My eyes had already drifted toward the hallway upstairs.

Toward Claire’s old room.

I don’t remember standing.

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