Chapter 3

Memorial Medical Center’s outpatient clinic was packed.

It took the better part of the afternoon to finish all of my mother’s tests.

Blood work.

An EKG.

A chest X-ray.

And a full exam.

When the final report came back, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

Aside from mildly elevated blood pressure, she was doing well.

Nothing serious.

For the first time since waking up in this second life, I felt the weight on my chest lighten.

By seven that evening, we were back at the apartment.

Ethan was already home.

He sat alone on the living room sofa, a cigarette burning between his fingers.

When he heard us come in, he crushed it into the ashtray and stood.

His expression was stiff, as though he were making a generous concession.

“I shouldn’t have raised my voice at the hospital.”

He paused.

“But Sophie’s doctor thinks she may have an ulcer.”

“I let her cut in because I was worried something might happen to her.”

His eyes settled on me.

“Did you really have to embarrass me in front of Dr. Mitchell?”

Without another word, he slid a bank card across the coffee table.

“I transferred $300,000 into the account I opened for you.”

“Take your mom to a private hospital tomorrow.”

“Book her with the best private cardiology practice you can find.”

“Use whatever’s left to take her shopping.”

He looked at me with complete confidence.

As if money could erase everything.

As if every disagreement we’d ever had could be solved with another expensive gesture.

My mother stood quietly by the front door.

She didn’t interrupt.

She didn’t try to smooth things over.

She simply watched me.

I changed into my slippers and walked to the coffee table.

Then I pushed the card back toward Ethan.

“We already finished the checkup.”

A crease formed between his brows.

He clearly wasn’t used to hearing me refuse him.

“How much longer are you planning to keep this up?”

He checked his watch before continuing.

“I’m flying to Europe with Sophie tomorrow night.”

“We’re attending an industry conference.”

“You stay here with your mom.”

“When I get back, we’ll go pick out your wedding dress.”

He said it like everything had already been decided.

Like my opinion had never been part of the equation.

Sophie’s needs always came first.

I was expected to wait patiently until whatever scraps of time he had left could be spared for me.

I met his eyes.

“Do whatever you want.”

Just four words.

But they seemed to satisfy him.

The tension in his shoulders eased.

He actually believed we’d made up.

He grabbed his car keys.

“Sophie’s waiting for me.”

“I need to drop off her medication.”

He had already reached the front door when he stopped.

“Oh.”

“Don’t forget to finish the Harrison transition memo in my study.”

“Sophie’s taking over that account next week.”

I stared at him.

That project.

The one I’d spent more than six months building.

The one I’d fought for, negotiated, and practically lived at the office to secure.

He wanted me to hand it over to Sophie.

Just like that.

I didn’t argue.

“Okay.”

That single word was all he got.

The front door closed behind him.

Silence filled the apartment.

I walked into the bedroom.

Pulled two large suitcases out from the back of the closet.

Without saying anything, my mother came in behind me.

She quietly folded my clothes and placed them inside.

Sweaters.

Coats.

Work clothes.

Everything.

She never asked why.

She never asked where we were going.

After a long while, she gently patted the back of my hand.

“Claire.”

“If this is what you believe is right…”

“I’ll support you.”

No matter what.”

The tears I’d been holding back all day finally spilled over.

I turned away before she could see my face.

But there was no hiding the relief.

In my previous life, I had sacrificed everything to preserve a relationship that had already died.

This time…

I was choosing myself.

And I would never look back.