“No,” Claire said, forcing a smile. “It’s not too much.”
What was there to fight about? Losing the baby had made everything else feel… irrelevant.
“Good.” Finley nodded. “Now go home and wait for me. Once Renee’s hand heals, I’ll come back to you.”
The words hit like déjà vu. She’d heard them before—so many times.
The day Renee came back, Claire had scheduled a prenatal appointment. Finley said he was busy, told her to go alone.
She waited at the hospital all day, but he never showed. Instead, she saw him on the news that evening, standing at the airport with a bouquet of yellow roses, grinning as he welcomed Renee home.
A few days later, Claire came down with a fever. Because of the baby, she couldn’t take any medication, so she spent the night curled up, sweating through the pain. Finley? He was off on a film set with Renee.
She’d called him, desperate, telling him she felt awful. His response? The same as always. “Wait for me. I’ll be back soon.”
He didn’t come back until the fever had already broken.
It was always like that. Broken promises, over and over, until all the letdowns blurred together.
After one brutal fight, he swore he’d change. Promised he wouldn’t leave her for Renee again.
She’d given him five chances.
This was the fifth.
“Renee hasn’t eaten yet. If you’re not going to get her something, I’ll take her myself. Just head home,” Finley said, cutting into Claire’s thoughts.
“Okay.” She turned to leave without another word..
But Finley’s gaze snagged on the paper in her hand, his eyes narrowing. “What’s that you’re holding?”
