“Nothing.” Claire shoved the paper into her pocket and kept walking, refusing to glance back. 

Behind her, Finley called out, “You’ve got a checkup in a few days, right? Once I deal with Renee, I’ll come with you to the hospital.” 

Her steps faltered, tears slipping down despite her best effort to hold it together. 

“We’ll see,” she said, turning to face him. “But, Finley? Your five chances are up.” 

“What?” He frowned. “Claire, come on. That was a joke. I never took it seriously—neither should you. Once Renee’s hand heals, I’ll come back to you. To the baby.” 

A flicker of guilt flashed in his eyes, but it wasn’t enough to stop him from turning back to Renee, guiding her carefully as they left. 

Claire watched him go, her heart hollow but her mind resolute. ‘That’s it, Finley. Your five chances are gone. You’ll never get another one.’ 

Downstairs, she went to pay the hospital bill. While waiting in line, dizziness hit her like a wave, and she stumbled. 

A nurse rushed over. “Miss, you look pale. Why are you handling this alone? Where’s your husband? Here, let me help you.” 

“Thanks.” 

The nurse’s kindness was a tiny spark in the icy weight pressing on her chest. A stranger noticed her struggle, yet Finley? His eyes were glued to Renee, blind to everything else. 

Claire spent three days in the hospital. Not a single call from Finley. 

She doubted he’d even gone home. 

“Claire, I’m here to check if you’re ready for discharge,” the doctor said, walking in with a small group. They examined her while chatting amongst themselves. 

“Did you hear? Renee Slutsky, the big celebrity, was here. Burned her hand, I think.” 

“Just a minor burn. She didn’t even need to stay. She left earlier today.” 

“Who was that guy with her? He’s gorgeous! Is he her boyfriend?” 

“Not sure, but he treated her like she was the only person on the planet. Lucky girl.”