The Wife he threw Away (Claire and Lucian) novel Chapter 285

Dinner turned out better than I expected— much better.

By the time the first course was served, the terrace had completely transformed beneath the soft glow of the lights.

The conversation now flowed easily.

For once, nobody was talking about the trial or the last several months that were tainted by scandals and rumors.

Nobody was asking about Hart Sullivan or even mentioning Eva. And nobody was discussing whether Lucian would survive the next board meeting.

It was simply a birthday dinner.

A normal evening— something we hadn’t had in far too long.

I sat beside Lucian, listening as Director Whitmore told an embarrassing story about one of Lucian’s first attempts at giving a speech to the board.

“You’re not being completely honest,” Lucian said.

The old director almost looked offended. “I would never lie about something that memorable.”

“You’re describing a completely different person.”

“You were eighteen.”

“I was sixteen.”

Director Whitmore pointed at him. “See? This is exactly what I’m talking about.”

Everyone laughed.

Even Lucian.

I couldn’t stop smiling.

I’d forgotten what it felt like to see him this relaxed.

The past few months had been hospital rooms, courtrooms, police stations and whispered conversations about whether any of us would make it through the trial without something else going terribly wrong.

Tonight felt like a pause.

A breath.

A reminder that our lives were supposed to contain moments like this too.

At some point, Camilla brought out the wine.

The bottle was placed directly in front of Lucian.

He looked at the label.

Then at me.

“You remembered.”

I smiled.

“Of course.”

His mother’s favorite.

He opened it himself.

The first glass was poured for him, then for me.

I lifted mine.

“To another year.”

Lucian’s eyes remained on me.

“To another year,” he repeated.

We clinked glasses.

I took a small sip.

The wine was smooth.

Familiar.

For some reason, it reminded me of our honeymoon.

Wine country.

That little vineyard we’d visited after spending an entire afternoon pretending we knew anything about wine.

I smiled at the memory.

Lucian noticed.

“What?”

“This tastes like our our date in Italy.”

His eyebrows rose.

“You remember that?”

“Of course.”

“You complained about the wine.”

“I did not.”

“You said it tasted like expensive grape juice.”

I laughed.

“It did.”

“You also told the owner that you preferred the cheaper bottle.”

“Because I did.”

“You nearly destroyed that man’s soul.”

I laughed harder.

“He was trying so hard to impress you.”

“He was trying to sell me a case.”

“Same thing.”

Lucian shook his head.

“He kept talking about the vintage.”

“You kept pretending to understand him.”

“I understood him.”

“You didn’t know what half the words meant.”

He leaned closer.

“I knew enough.”

I smiled.

“You were terrible.”

“And yet you married me.”

The words came out casually.

But something about them made my smile falter for half a second.

Married.

Past tense.

I looked at him.

He was still smiling.

Then his expression softened.

“Maybe we should fix that.”

I blinked.

“What?”

He lifted his glass.

“Nothing.”

“Lucian.”

He shrugged.

“I could propose right now.”

I stared at him.

Then laughed.

“You’re insane.”

“Probably.”

“We’ve barely gotten back together.”

“So?”

“So people would think we’ve lost our minds.”

He smiled.

“They already think that.”

I rolled my eyes.

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

His voice was quieter now.

But before I could answer, Daniel interrupted from across the table.

“If you two are going to propose again, at least wait until after dessert.”

Lucian looked at him.

“Were you listening?”

“I have ears.”

“You’re irritating.”

“And yet you invited me.”

“Unfortunately.”

Everyone laughed again.

I joined them.

Three weeks.

I had noticed it days ago.

I’d told myself it was stress.

The trial.

Everything with Eva.

Everything with Lucian.

My body had been through too much.

Cycles could change.

Couldn’t they?

I didn’t want to think about it.

Not tonight.

Tonight was his birthday.

I wasn’t going to let my own paranoia ruin it.

⸻

After dinner, the guests slowly began leaving.

The board members said their lengthy goodbyes personally to Lucian and I before leaving.

Nathaniel even hugged Lucian before heading out. Daniel made one last joke about Lucian’s birthday becoming a reconciliation ceremony.

Laurel promised to send me photographs from the evening.

Eventually, the terrace became quiet again. I stood beside Lucian as he watched the last car disappear through the gates.

“You enjoyed yourself,” I said.

He looked at me with a smile. “I did.”

God, he hadn’t stopped smiling all evening.

“Good.”

He turned toward the photographs of his mother.

Then back to me.

“You did this.”

I smiled.

“I did.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a birthday like this.”

I reached for his hand.

“Then I’m glad I could give you one.”

He squeezed my fingers.

“I love you.”

My heart warmed.

“I love you too.”

He leaned down and kissed me. As always, his kiss was tender.

I rested my forehead against his chest afterward. For a few seconds, everything felt perfect.

Honestly, life had never felt so perfect before.

Then another faint wave of nausea rolled through me, interrupting my thoughts.

I closed my eyes.

This time, it was stronger. I took a slow breath, waiting for it to pass.

When it was finally over, I opened my eyes.

Lucian was still holding me. “You’re sure you’re okay?” He asked, concern etched into his expression.

I nodded. “I guess I’m just tired.”

He kissed my forehead. “Go to bed early, okay?”

I smiled, then nodded. “I will.”

But even as I said it, something inside me whispered a question I had been refusing to ask.

“What if it isn’t stress?”

I pushed the thought away.

I couldn’t think about that. Not yet.

I’d spent years asking myself that same question. Years hoping and taking tests.

I’d spent years staring at a single line and pretending it didn’t hurt.

I wasn’t going to do that to myself again. Not now.

So I simply smiled at Lucian.

And I said nothing.