The Wife he threw Away (Claire and Lucian) novel Chapter 58

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT CLAIRE’S POV

I didn’t plan where I was going, but just knew I couldn’t stay in that house.

The walls felt different now. Like they had started listening. Like every room held pieces of conversations I didn’t want to remember.

So I left.

No explanation, no destination.

I just went out.

Outside, the city felt louder than usual, or maybe I was just more aware of it today.

Every passing car, every distant voice-it all seemed to add to the storm taking over my mind.

Victoria’s voice echoed the loudest.

“Mrs. Dhark was aware…”

“The marriage had already failed…”

And Dr. Carter.

“Three sessions.”

Three carefully chosen fragments of my life, twisted into something unrecognizable. Into something

untrue and ugly.

I exhaled slowly and stopped walking.

That was when I noticed where I was.

I was in front of an art gallery.

Of course.

A quiet, almost ironic smile tugged at my lips before I stepped inside.

The gallery was calm. The lighting was soft and pleasing, the footsteps around me were almost muted.

Paintings stretched across white walls, each one holding its own story, its own interpretation of truth.

I moved slowly through the space, letting my eyes drift over the canvases.

Color. Form. Emotion.

No one arguing over intent, no one twisting meaning.

Just an expression of art.

The storm in my head didn’t disappear, but the quietness of the gallery certainly helped a little.

1/8

+25 Bonus

I stopped in front of a painting I didn’t fully understand-bold strokes layered over softer ones, like something had been built and then deliberately undone.

“Not your usual preference.”

The familiar voice came from behind me.

It sounded measured, calm, but also a little bit excited.

I turned.

Nathaniel stood a few steps away, with his hands loosely in his pockets, his gaze shifting from the painting to me.

For a second, neither of us spoke.

Then he added, almost casually- “You don’t look like someone who won today.”

I let out a small sigh. “I don’t think anyone won today.”

His expression softened. “I watched it,” he said.

Of course he did.

“It was hard to miss.”

He stepped closer, stopping beside me-not too close, but not distant either.

“Victoria Merlyn,” he continued. “She’s a predictable choice.”

“Is that what that was?” I asked, taking a quick glance at him before turning back to the painting in front

of me.

“Yes.” Nathaniel said, the paused briefly. “Effective. Not ethical. But effective.”

I folded my arms in front of me and exhaled. “That seems to be the theme lately.”

Nathaniel’s jaw tightened slightly. “That therapist-” he started aggressively, then stopped himself.

Then he lowered his voice instead. “That should never have been allowed.”

I looked at him properly then.

Not as a lawyer, or as Lucian’s former counsel.

Just… Nathaniel.

And Nathaniel seemed angry.

“You’re not saying that as a professional,” I said quietly.

“No,” he replied just as quietly. “I’m not.”

28

Something in my chest shifted.

We stood there for a moment longer, just staring at each other in comfortable silence.

Then neither of us moved to leave.

We started walking through the gallery slowly.

Not with any clear direction, we were just… moving.

Stopping occasionally in front of different pieces, commenting whenever something caught our

attention.

At some point, we reached a smaller section toward the back.

There was a long table set up.

Paints.

Brushes.

Blank canvases.

I hesitated slightly.

Nathaniel noticed.

“You used to paint,” he said.

It wasn’t a question.

I looked at him.

“How do you know that?”

“You mentioned it once,” he replied.

I frowned faintly.

“I don’t remember that.”

“I do.”

Of course he did.

I glanced back at the table.

“I haven’t in a long time.”

“Then you’re overdue.”

I let out a small, incredulous breath.

• 25 Bonus

3/8

⚫25 Bonus

“You’re suggesting I start painting in the middle of a public gallery?”

“I’m suggesting,” he said calmly, “that it might be more productive than replaying Victoria’s argument in your head.”

I narrowed my eyes at him slightly.

“That sounded suspiciously like advice.”

“It was.”

A pause.

Then, despite myself-

I stepped forward.

The brush felt unfamiliar in my hand.

At first.

Then not.

The first stroke was hesitant.

The second less so.

Nathaniel stood beside me, watching for a moment before picking up his own brush.

“You’re holding it too tightly,” he said.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

I glanced at his canvas.

“You haven’t even started.”

“I don’t need to.”

I scoffed softly.

“That’s not how this works.”

“It is when I’m right.”

I shook my head, a small smile threatening to form.

“Arrogant.”

4/8

“Observant.”

I painted another stroke.

“You would have been unbearable to work with,” I said.

Nathaniel considered that.

“I was.”

“I believe that.”

A brief silence passed.

Comfortable.

Then he added-

“You would have been difficult to cross-examine.”

I glanced at him.

“You would have enjoyed trying.”

A faint smile touched his lips.

“I would have.”

The moment lingered.

Then passed just as easily.

Later, we sat across from each other at a small café just in front of the gallery.

Neither of us had suggested leaving.

It had just… happened.

Conversation came easier now to me now, around him.

Less guarded. More fluid.

At one point, he leaned back slightly, studying me.

“Why did you stay?”

The question wasn’t abrupt.

But it wasn’t light either.

I knew what he meant.

25 Bonus

5/8

CLAIRES INV

The house.

The marriage.

Everything.

I looked down briefly, then back at him.

“It wasn’t simple.”

“It never is.”

A pause.

Then I added quietly-

“I thought it would get better.”

Nathaniel didn’t interrupt.

Didn’t challenge it.

Didn’t analyze it.

He just nodded once.

And that-somehow-felt more understanding than anything anyone had said to me in a long time.

By the time he drove me back to the mansion, the sky had already darkened.

The car ride was quieter.

Not uncomfortable. No, it was a very comfortable kind of silence.

But it was also aware of the day ending. Of something shifting.

He pulled up in front of the house but didn’t immediately say anything.

And neither did I.

For a moment, we just sat there together, absorbing each other’s presence.

Then he said, “I might attend the next hearing.”

I turned to face him immediately.

“Why?” I asked.

Nathaniel paused briefly, then shrugged almost casually. “Professional curiosity.”

I held his gaze.

We both knew that wasn’t the full answer.

+25 Bones

69