It turned out everything he’d tried so hard to forget could all leap back out with a single piece of news.
Ethan gave a wry, helpless smile and lay back down.
The next day after work, when he saw Madison standing by the company entrance, Ethan almost thought he’d imagined it because he hadn’t slept well.
Not until Madison stepped forward and hooked her arm through his did he realize: Madison was really back.
Ethan awkwardly slipped his arm out of her hold.
Madison raised an eyebrow, unbothered, her tone casual: “Where should we go for dinner?”
Her familiar scent drifted at him in waves. Ethan took a small step back, rubbed the bridge of his nose, and managed, “You’re back?”
Madison flipped her hair with a flick and sounded a little impatient. “I’ve been standing here waiting forever. I’m exhausted—let’s sit down somewhere first.”
Ethan looked helpless and forced a little laugh. “Madison, I have a girlfriend now.”
Madison opened her eyes wide and looked at him with mock innocence. “I heard from Lucas. So what—just because you have a girlfriend, you can’t take an old ex out to dinner?”
Ethan shook his head. “It’s… not appropriate.”
Madison’s lips pouted, her delicate brows knitting tightly, and two tears welled up in her eyes.
Ethan immediately felt a headache coming on. Madison only needed two moves to disarm him: act cute, or cry.
He knew most of the time her sudden tears were a weapon to get to him, not real sorrow—but he couldn’t stand seeing her cry.
The phone rang. Ethan glanced at the screen and his expression shifted, a little awkward. He stepped aside and answered, “Hello?”
On the other end, Claire’s bright voice rang out: “Ethan, what time are you coming home? Want braised ribs tonight? I’ll pick some up after work.”
Ethan hesitated for a flash, but his mouth was quicker than his brain. “I’m working late tonight—don’t bother cooking. Just grab something for yourself.”
“Working late? What time will you be home?”
“The whole department’s pulling a late one—we’ve got a deadline. I don’t know. Don’t wait up for me; get some rest. And eat properly—don’t just shove anything into your mouth alone.”
There was a thread of barely hidden panic under Ethan’s concern.
Claire’s slightly disappointed voice brightened immediately. “Okay, got it. You eat too.”
After Ethan hung up, Madison stood there with a grin, looking pleased with herself.
At Madison’s insistence the two of them went to the steakhouse on Fourth Avenue where they used to date.
“Huh, nothing’s changed. Still the vibe I like,” Madison said, lifting a glass of red and sighing.
“It has changed. Servers have come and gone; the owner’s probably different too,” Ethan muttered.
“You straight-man thinking kills me. Can you not say things in a charming way?” Madison teased.
“My girlfriend thinks I’m fine as I am,” Ethan replied stiffly.
Madison pretended not to hear and leisurely stabbed a small piece of steak, chewing slowly.
A lilting piano began to play in the restaurant.
“It’s ‘LOVE.’ Not bad—just lacking a bit of emotional depth,” Madison commented as her glass tipped.
Ethan felt something blur inside him. Madison looked so familiar and yet utterly foreign.
She had left eight years ago, ignoring what they’d had and both families’ objections, to go abroad chasing her music dream.
When Ethan snapped back, she was no longer sitting across from him. He turned to look.
Madison had moved to the front and was sitting at the piano, back straight, smiling broadly at him. Her long fingers danced over the keys and a beautiful melody quickly filled the room.
When the piece ended, the man standing beside her clapped enthusiastically.
Ethan didn’t know much about piano, but from the reaction he could tell she was excellent.
“Did you like it? It’s for you—‘Acommeamour,’” Madison said, clinking his glass.
Ethan’s heart hammered. He avoided her eyes and mumbled, “We’re almost done eating. Let’s go.”
Madison lifted an eyebrow but didn’t argue—her silence meant yes.
Ethan reached to pay.
The tall man who’d been beside Madison stepped forward, bowed slightly, smiling warm and bright. Ethan was surprised—he hadn’t expected him to handle the bill.
“Swipe,” Ethan said, pulling out a card.
The man waved a hand. “Your bill’s on the house today.”
Seeing Ethan’s puzzled look, the man handed over a business card. On the front, two bold characters read: Nathan Quinn.
“I’m the owner,” the man said. “This lady’s piano playing was fantastic. I also have an arts academy. I’d love to cooperate with her in the future.”
Ethan took the card. “Mr. Quinn, thank you, but we can’t accept freebies. We’ll pay today.”
Ethan insisted on handing over his card.
Nathan glanced at the two of them. Madison smiled but said nothing. Ethan stayed stubborn, and Nathan accepted his card with a gentle nod. “Alright. Next time you two come, don’t be shy.”
Ethan didn’t reply. Madison reached for the card and smiled prettily. “Thanks, Mr. Quinn. We’ll call ahead next time.”
“Can’t wait,” Nathan answered with a radiant smile.
Madison added with a laugh, “Next time you come alone—I’m not coming back.”
Outside, Ethan stalked a little, angry. “I’m not coming either,” he grumbled.
“Ooh, jealous?” Madison teased and hooked her arm through his.
Ethan jerked away sharply, his voice rising. “Madison, get this straight—when you left without looking back, that was the end. We’re over. We’re not… anything.”
He let the last word fall softer.
Madison didn’t say a word. Then she suddenly stepped forward and hugged him, her face pressed to his neck—an old favorite of theirs.
Ethan didn’t pull her off, but he didn’t wrap her up like before either.
“Sorry, Ethan. I’m sorry. I was wrong,” Madison said, her voice trembling near his ear.
That night when Ethan arrived home, Claire was slouched on the sofa, asleep in a little curled-up ball.
Ethan’s heart ached. He lifted her into his arms and as he stood up, she blinked awake, looping an arm around his neck and rubbing her sleepy eyes. “You’re home? Are you hungry? I made soup—it’s still warm. Want me to get you a bowl?”
Ethan carried her to the bedroom, wrapped her in the blanket. “Go to sleep. I’m not hungry. Don’t sleep on the sofa anymore—catching a cold is easy.”
Claire grabbed his sleeve and touched his face. “You look so pale. Are you overworking? Want to take a few days off?”
Ethan looked at her and said nothing outwardly, but waves of thought crashed through him. After Madison left, he’d been in pieces for a long time. Claire’s bright, sunny personality had healed him. He couldn’t betray her. He couldn’t lose the stable, hard-won love he’d finally found.
He nodded to Claire, almost casually: “Okay. I’ll take a few days off. You take some too. Let’s go back to Riverside and talk to my parents about getting married.”
Claire blinked, surprised. “Didn’t we agree to talk about marriage next year?”
Ethan sat on the bed and wrapped Claire in his arms. “I want to marry you sooner.”
Claire split into a huge smile, delighted. “Why are you in such a hurry? I’m not going anywhere.”
The next day they went to Riverside together. Ethan was thirty-three; the Hart family had been anxious for a while and wholeheartedly supported the wedding.
Claire’s parents were reluctant—she was only twenty-four and they wished she’d stay with them a couple more years.
Ethan laid out the property deed and bankbook on the table with sincere determination. “Uncle, Auntie, I’ve already bought a place. I’ve talked to my parents and I’m going to put Claire’s name on the deed. There’s $20,000 in the account as betrothal money. If you have other requests, please tell me.”
Claire’s mother hesitated politely. “We have no objection to you being together. It’s just that Claire just graduated and her job isn’t stable yet. We hoped she’d focus on work a bit more. Maybe postpone marriage for a couple years.”
“Auntie, I fully support Claire’s career. Marriage won’t change that.”
“But—”
“Mom, you said as long as I want it, I can,” Claire chimed, wrapping her arm around her mother and pleading playfully.
They set the wedding for October.
Back in the city, Ethan and Claire added her name to the deed and booked the wedding photos. Everything moved along smoothly.
Madison never contacted Ethan again; Ethan pretended like she had never existed.
Claire didn’t like traditional wedding photos. She picked a studio known for street-style shoots.
On the shoot day they wandered through the city’s neighborhoods. The last stop was Fourth Avenue: towering buildings, glaring neon, dizzying nightlife. Hand in hand, they strolled while the photographer chased angles.
After a long day, Claire excitedly pointed to the steakhouse. “This is the top steakhouse on Fourth Avenue. Let’s eat here tonight.”
Ethan’s eyes flicked over and he froze for a second.
Claire tugged him forward. Ethan pulled back. Claire looked puzzled.
Ethan forced an awkward smile. “I’m exhausted. Let’s go home and eat something simple. I want to rest.”
Claire obediently nodded, though she sounded disappointed. “Danny said this place is amazing. We should definitely come next time.”
Ethan felt a sharp pang and, on impulse, pulled Claire along: “Let’s go eat now.”
Claire grabbed his arm and cheered, “You’re the best, husband!”
As they entered, Ethan’s gaze went straight to the piano.
A woman in a white dress sat with her back to the entrance, playing.
Claire pulled out her phone to take photos. “This place is so elegant. The owner has such taste.”
“Hi.” Ethan’s voice caught as he spoke.
They had just sat down when Nathan walked over.
Ethan froze. Nathan smiled and nodded toward him. "Madison’s here today, too."
Ethan stiffened all over. He instinctively glanced at the white figure. At the end of the song, the girl turned around—sure enough, it was Madison.
Claire followed Ethan’s gaze.
A tall girl with fair skin and striking features was walking toward them.
She stopped beside Nathan, tucking her hair back with one hand and extending the other to Claire with a composed, confident air. "Hi, I’m Madison Reed."
Claire hurriedly reached out. "Hi, I’m Claire Bennett."
Madison smiled at Ethan. "The filet tonight was really good. You’d probably like it."
Ethan kept his face blank, giving no reply.
Sensing the awkwardness, Nathan politely nodded to Claire. "Enjoy your meal, you two. We’ll be over there."
He gestured to Madison with a "please" motion. "Let’s sit over there."
Madison shot Ethan a meaningful look, then followed Nathan away.
Claire tested the waters. "Are they your friends?"
Ethan came back to himself. He discreetly wiped the sweat from his palm on his pants under the table and forced a smile. "Not friends. What do you want to eat?"
Claire was innocent but not naive—she noticed Ethan’s oddness. Calmly she said, "Madison said the filet’s good, so let’s have the filet."
Ethan pretended not to hear, lowering his head to study the menu. After a moment he said, "I’m exhausted today, not very hungry. I’ll have the pasta."
When they paid, Ethan turned and saw Nathan and Madison seated at a table off to the side. They were talking; Nathan’s expression was neutral while Madison smiled like a practiced flirt.
On the walk home, Claire and Ethan were silent.
Claire had a lot of questions, but she didn’t ask any of them.
The next day Ethan was in a meeting when a call from the hospital came in: Madison had been in an accident.
Panicked, Ethan rushed to the hospital and found Nathan there too.
Madison had been in a car accident and was unconscious. A nurse explained they had found her recent contacts in her phone—Ethan and Nathan.
Her Return Broke His Promise
"Is either of you a family member?
The patient's condition is critical and she needs surgery. Family needs to sign."
Ethan and Nathan exchanged a look and shook their heads.
The nurse grew anxious. "Is there any way to reach her family?"
Ethan hesitated, then stopped himself. The nurse couldn't wait—she hurried into the OR.
After a while a junior nurse came running back out. Ethan hurried up. "What should we do now?"
"Our supervisor has signed. The surgery is starting. Please wait here."
Ethan wiped sweat from his brow. Nathan handed him a bottle of water.
Ethan felt awkward and whispered thanks.
"Don't worry. Madison should be fine," Nathan said to reassure him.
"Ethan, why are you here?
You and Madison—?"
Ethan fumbled. Nathan smoothly explained, "I heard Madison play recently and liked her work. I gave both of you my card. Later she reached out to me about collaboration—since I run an arts academy, I invited her to talk at The Porter Steakhouse yesterday, and we happened to run into Mr. Hart and his girlfriend."
Nathan was clever; his explanation was immediate.
For some reason Ethan felt secretly relieved.
"Mr. Hart, your girlfriend seems sweet and lovely—she might be a better match for you than Madison," Nathan said suddenly.
It was an oddly blunt remark given the situation.
Ethan was taken aback. Nathan rose. "Considering Madison may have mobility issues after this, if you have any contact for her relatives, please notify them. I have to go." He gave Ethan a quick goodbye and left.
Ethan sat dazed outside the OR.
He had Madison's parents' numbers—after all, the two of them had been that close once. But her parents were elderly; when Madison insisted on going abroad, both had fallen ill and never fully recovered. If they learned she’d been in a crash, how frantic would they be? It wasn't something Madison would want.
He scrolled through his phone and, in the end, didn't call.
When Madison came out of surgery she was awake and started crying at the sight of Ethan. "Ethan, it hurts so much."
Ethan felt his chest tighten with concern. He took her hand. "It's okay. It'll be better soon. What do you want to eat? I'll go get you something."
"Don't tell my parents. They'll worry," Madison said, eyes pleading.
Ethan swallowed the thought that begged to escape—who would care for her?—and nodded. "Okay, I'll get you something."
"I want soup dumplings, lots of vinegar."
Madison's pale face brightened when he agreed.
He fed her broth, fed her dumplings, and soothing her to sleep. Only when she finally dozed off did he realize it was already evening.
He checked his phone: eighteen missed calls.
Claire had over thirty unread messages: "Babe, what are we eating tonight?" "Where are you?" "Why aren't you answering?" "What happened?" "Don't scare me—it's not something bad, right?" "Pick up!!!"
Ethan called back immediately. Claire answered in a flash. "Ethan, where have you been? Are you okay?"
"Claire, I'm sorry. A friend of mine was in an accident. I'm at the hospital right now."
"Oh. Is she okay? Which hospital? I'll come."
"No, it's fine. She's okay. I'm heading home now. Have you eaten?"
"No, I'm still at the mall."
"Are you shopping by yourself or with Danny?"
Claire was quiet for a moment. "We were supposed to look at wedding rings today."
Ethan smacked his forehead and kept apologizing. "I'm so sorry. I forgot. I was so flustered. Can we go tomorrow?"
"Okay. Come pick me up at the mall."
Claire hung up and found a coffee shop to wait. For some reason she felt uneasy—something felt off. Ethan was always organized and attentive when it came to her; he never forgot important things. So it was unlike him to completely forget wedding-ring shopping. Whose friend had been in the accident?
Her coffee went cold untouched.
Back at the hospital, Ethan hung up and realized Madison had woken again. She watched him quietly. Ethan's throat went dry—he couldn't bring himself to say, "I have to go."
"I want banana milk," Madison coaxed.
"It's late. I'll bring it tomorrow. I—I have to go home," Ethan said, turning his face away.
"I went to the food street near State University at lunch. Seeing so many familiar sights made my head spin, and I didn't look when I crossed the road," Madison said, voice small.
"You always rush into things. The traffic there is heavy," Ethan snapped before he could stop himself.
"Don't be mean. My leg hurts. The doctor said if the surgery had gone wrong I could be disabled. If I'm disabled, won't anyone want me?" Madison's eyes brimmed with tears.
"What are you saying?" Ethan barked, annoyed and distracted. "You're fine."
"You're being mean. You never talk to me like this."
Madison turned her face away, crying into the pillow.
"I'm sorry, Madison. I didn't mean it. My girlfriend's waiting for me. If you're okay, I'll head out."
"Go," Madison said without looking at him.
He forced himself up and left.
Before he could pull out of the parking lot, the hospital called again. "Are you her family? What happened? You left the patient alone—she fell in the bathroom, did you know?"
Ethan slammed the brakes, turned around, and rushed back.
He heard a nurse scolding Madison even before he entered. "If you don't want this leg, keep acting like that."
"Sorry, nurse. I couldn't help it, I was desperate," Madison replied, sounds of pain escaping her.
The moment the nurse saw Ethan she unloaded on him. "Your girlfriend's like this and you went to rest? What's wrong with you? Any responsibility at all?"
Ethan apologized quickly. "Sorry. Sorry. I'm causing trouble."
When Claire got Ethan's muffled call, her heart sank.
That night Ethan didn't come home.
Claire tossed and turned and took the day off to go to The Porter Steakhouse.
The lunchtime restaurant was quiet. She showed a photo of Nathan and Madison to a server, asking if they had contact info. The server hesitated—then Nathan appeared from somewhere and waved the server away.
Claire smoothed her bangs nervously. "Sorry to bother you."
Nathan waved it off and smiled slightly. "No problem. Join us—we're talking over lunch. The ribeye's great today. Want to try some?"
Claire nodded. "Sure. I like ribeye. It's got good texture."
"A connoisseur," Nathan said, delighted. "You must eat steak often."
"I like it, but not much—Ethan doesn't like it. Are you friends with Ethan?" Claire asked casually, though her steady gaze betrayed her tension.
Nathan's slender eyes narrowed a touch. He gave a wry smile and shook his head. "Sorry, we're not friends. I probably can't help you much."
Claire frowned and looked out at the busy street, cars flowing endlessly. After a long time she asked, "So, is Madison your friend?"
Nathan shook his head again. "No. My academy has done some collaborations with her."
He thought for a moment, then added, "If you have doubts, you should just ask Mr. Hart directly."
"No. If he doesn't say it, I won't ask. People all have pasts and private things," Claire said, her voice low.
"Aren't you afraid his past will hurt you?" Nathan asked, curiosity flickering toward the girl in front of him.
"If he lets his past hurt me, then he doesn't love me enough. Someone who doesn't love me enough—why would I let him hurt me?" Claire's mouth flattened into a thin line; her round face took on a serious expression.
Nathan raised an eyebrow and nodded approvingly. "Pretty, clear-headed, confident. If Mr. Hart hurts you, it's absolutely his loss."
"Thanks for the compliment. You should know not every pretty girl is naive. By the way, what's your name?" Claire answered simply. She was upbeat and decisive; she never hammed it up when someone sincerely praised her.
Nathan handed her a business card.
"Oh, so you're the boss. Does that mean I get my meal comped today?" Claire forked a piece of steak and popped it in her mouth, eyes half-closed in pleasure as she asked.
"Naturally. Miss Bennett, you're welcome anytime," Nathan laughed.
"Ethan, I'm at your company. They said you took five days off. Where are you?" Claire's voice was quiet and calm, but Ethan went cold with sweat when he answered the phone.
"Claire, listen—my friend, she—her accident was bad. I'm here looking after her." He hurried words out.
"Helping a friend is good. Why can't you tell me plainly? Where are you? I'll come see your friend too."
"I—it's nothing. You're working hard. Go home and rest." Ethan tried to dodge.
"Han—Ethan, I want to come now." Claire spoke deliberately, word by word.
"I'm at Central Memorial Hospital." Ethan said it and then slumped into the chair beside Madison's bed, dejected.
Madison drank her porridge quietly, not asking a thing.
When Claire arrived, Madison was instructing Ethan on cutting an apple. "Slice it in half. I can't eat that much. Yes, the right half."
"Miss Reed, we meet again," Ethan said.
At the sound of Claire's voice, Ethan—who had his back to the door—tilted his hand and the knife nicked him. Blood spurted out.
"You're bleeding, Ethan. Put that down!" Madison cried.
Claire watched them fumble to stop the bleeding with a cool, detached expression, not moving at all, as if none of it concerned her. It was jarring—she used to fuss for half an hour if Ethan even lost a hair.
"Claire, you're here? You not working today?" Ethan squeezed out a stiff smile at her.
"Miss Reed, do you have any other friends or family? It seems awkward for a male friend who's not that close to be taking care of you." Claire ignored Ethan and addressed Madison directly.
Madison shrugged. "I just got back to the country. Ethan's the only contact I have." She gave Ethan a deep, meaningful look.
"I suggest you hire a caregiver; it would be more convenient." Claire didn't miss the undercurrent in her tone.
"I have OCD. I don't like strangers touching me," Madison said, steady and unyielding.
"Ethan, do you think it's appropriate to be taking such intimate care of a female friend?" Claire asked, turning to him. Her hand clenched without her meaning to.
Ethan glanced at Madison. She was bracing with both hands on the headboard, sweating through the effort of keeping upright—the difficulty with her legs had her biting down and bearing it—and seeing her struggle made something twist in Ethan's chest.
"Claire, I swear, once Madison's out of the hospital we won't be in contact," Ethan pleaded softly.
"You're a grown man. Being that close to a girl is inappropriate. We can pay for a caregiver." Claire kept her tone as even as possible, trying to reason with him.
Ethan didn't catch the restraint behind her words. He kept begging, "Claire, you've always been sensible. Don't make a big deal over Madison. She's picky; a caregiver couldn't manage her. Please, believe me—I promise there's nothing between us. I can't just ignore her now, not in her condition."
"One last time: are you certain you want to be this intimate taking care of a woman?" Claire stared straight at him.
Ethan's features twitched with distress. "Claire, it's a special situation. Can't you—"
She didn't wait for him to finish and turned away.
Ethan bolted after her. Claire walked without stopping, all the way to the hospital entrance.
"Claire, listen to me." He was out of breath.
She stopped and looked at him, expression unreadable. "Okay. Say it."
"Madison is my ex. We broke up a long time ago. I really don't have feelings for her anymore," Ethan stammered.
"Fine. I believe you. But I insist there should be boundaries between male and female friends. It's inappropriate for you to care for her that closely. We can contact her family or hire a caregiver. Will you cooperate?" Claire's gaze was firm. She'd always been decisive—she'd been the one to accept Ethan's pursuit despite everyone saying he was nine years older and had a messy past. She trusted the look in his eyes, his gentleness. She had believed in his love and that age and history shouldn't block true feelings.
Ethan knew her well. He grabbed her hand like he was afraid she'd run, his face pinched. "Claire, please, just this once. One time, okay?"
Her eyes cooled. She wrenched her hand away. "Ethan, I gave you chances. You didn't cherish them." She turned and walked off.
He watched her go, muttering to himself, his arm falling uselessly at his side.
When Madison was finally discharged, Ethan returned home to find every trace of Claire gone—everything wiped clean as if she'd never been there. He called and got a perpetual busy signal; she had surely blocked him. Still, he went to her company.
Claire didn't avoid him, but when he turned up she met him with a tone that mixed indifference and scorn. "Ethan, since you've made your choice, don't come bothering me. Don't make me regret my decision."
Those words cut him open.
Madison's recovery was slow; she was always tipping a pot or breaking a crutch. Ethan had to keep fixing things for months. After over four months—"a hundred days for bone and tendon"—she finally regained her strength.
Madison and Ethan never actually cleared the air; they stayed in that gray area between them.
Near the end of the year, Nathan called to check on Madison. When she said she was better, he asked her to come by the Quinn Arts Academy. Ethan drove her and was surprised to see Claire—whom he hadn't seen in months—learning guitar, with Nathan as her teacher.
Ethan froze, watching Claire smile at Nathan, and memories rushed back.
Madison looped her arm through Ethan's as they went inside. Nathan saw them first. He put down his guitar, stood, and nodded. "Mr. Hart, Miss Reed."
Claire kept her head down, studying the guitar in her hands.
They went to Nathan's office. He got straight to the point. "Miss Reed, I'm sorry, but I need to unilaterally terminate the contract we signed. I'll compensate you per the contract for any losses."
Madison looked surprised. "Mr. Quinn, is this because I couldn't work with my leg?"
"No, no. You should've rested. It's not for that reason. It's due to some personal reasons of mine." Nathan shook his head.
Madison, practical, didn't press. "Okay. I haven't been able to work for months, and you've been paying my salary. I feel bad. You don't need to compensate; let's just end the contract."
Nathan didn't comment. He produced the contract and Madison signed immediately. Ethan had said nothing the whole time.
After they left, Nathan called after them, "Sorry, Mr. Hart, I need your help with one thing."
Ethan blinked. "Me? What is it?"
"It's this: your property deed has Miss Bennett's name on it. We should remove it at a convenient time." Nathan said it as casually as if inviting them to lunch.
"I—you…" Ethan stammered, at a loss.
Madison recovered first. Her face stiffened and she extended a hand to Nathan. "Congratulations, Mr. Quinn."
Nathan didn't take it; he merely nodded. "Thank you, Miss Reed."
"Did you end the contract because of Miss Bennett?" Madison asked.
Nathan nodded as if it were obvious. "My girlfriend's a bit naive. She has feelings about Miss Reed. I didn't want her upset over such things, so I made the decision. It's not about her directly; I just wanted to make her happy."
Madison felt embarrassed and a little stung. Ethan, meanwhile, was in shock for a long moment before he could even process Nathan's words. He looked at Nathan in disbelief. "Claire is your girlfriend?"
Nathan ignored him and instead asked, "Mr. Hart, when are you free? Let's handle the deed removal together."
Ethan had avoided contacting Claire about removing her name because, as long as her name was on the deed, he felt like she might come back someday.
"Why are you spacing out? Mr. Quinn asked when you're available." Madison nudged him impatiently.
"I'm available anytime," Ethan said, head down, dejected.
"Okay, then tomorrow at ten in the morning. We'll meet at the property transaction center." Nathan decided on the spot.
"But shouldn't we ask Claire first?" Ethan hesitated.
"Oh, we already discussed it. Today I'm just confirming a time with Mr. Hart," Nathan said crisply, in stark contrast to Ethan's hesitation.
Madison couldn't help but furrow her brow.
At the registry desk, Claire was ice-cold the whole time, never once giving Ethan or Madison so much as a glance.
Outside the gate, Nathan draped an arm over Claire’s shoulders and teased, “You changed your name and your assets just shrank two hundred grand. Not even a little heartache?”
Claire snorted. “I don’t want any tie to that kind of person. Five hundred thousand doesn’t mean anything to me.”
Nathan chuckled again. “Or is it that you still can’t let him go? You seem unsettled whenever you face him.”
Claire’s expression went serious. “It’s not that I can’t let him go. It’s disgust. Seeing him weak and wavering makes me furious that I was ever so blind.”
“What about you?” Nathan asked. “Didn’t you say Madison’s artistic talent is incredible, that you admire her?”
Claire shot him a sideways look and stared.
Nathan waved his hand grandly, all swagger. “Anything that makes my girlfriend unhappy shouldn’t even exist. My world is that simple.”
Claire pressed her lips together and smiled quietly.
Meanwhile, Ethan and Madison got into the car. Ethan wore a deep frown and stayed silent.
Madison sneered. “What, can’t bear to let go? If you really can’t, just give her the house.”
Ethan blurted out, “Claire’s not that kind of person. She wouldn’t take it.”
Madison’s face changed. Her voice suddenly rose. “Ethan, what do you mean by that? If she’s not that kind of person, who is? Are you saying I am?”
Ethan suddenly felt bone-tired. He muttered, “That’s not what I meant,” and then shut his mouth.
Madison watched him and felt even more irritated.
Claire ending up with Nathan after leaving Ethan stunned and stung Madison. Nathan was handsome, successful, decisive—compared to him, Ethan seemed insignificant.
Why could Claire so easily have everything Madison had schemed and still couldn’t get?
Madison stomped home, slamming the door so hard it banged.
Normally Ethan would have rushed over to comfort her the moment she was upset. Today he did nothing.
Her phone chimed. A message from her German mentor flashed on-screen.
She didn’t dare ignore it and opened it right away.
Her advisor was a German man nearing fifty who’d always taken good care of her and praised her talent without holding back. When she graduated he had pushed hard for the faculty to keep her on as a teacher.
But that century-old conservatory had strict requirements for faculty. Madison didn’t meet some of the hard conditions, so nothing had been finalized.
Her mentor had hinted that if she were willing to form a family with him it would greatly increase her chances of staying.
At the time, Madison had been flustered and panicked by the news that Ethan had a girlfriend and was getting married. She hadn’t been able to take the mentor’s suggestion seriously.
In her mind, Ethan would be waiting for her his whole life.
Acting on impulse, she’d flown home immediately.
Later she assumed the faculty position would be forgotten and stopped thinking about returning. But her mentor, clearly fond of her, never gave up.
Madison stared at the email, wavering.
A few days later she sat in the airport terminal, clutching her phone, rewriting and erasing her message until the very last moment before takeoff, when she finally sent it: “Ethan, I’m sorry. I left you again. The conservatory contacted me—my teacher arranged a faculty appointment for me. Because of you I hesitated, but I’ve decided to go back. Do you know? When Lucas told me you had a girlfriend I felt like my heart died. I thought only of seeing you. I couldn’t wait a moment—I bought a ticket home. When I saw you I was sure you still loved me; your eyes couldn’t lie. But when I saw Claire later, I wasn’t so sure. Look at her face—so warm, so joyful, full of love. I think what we have is more unfinished business than an inability to let go. Don’t blame me. For eight years I truly loved you.”
Ethan read the message while visiting a client on Fourth Avenue. He stared at his phone with a hollow look, then absentmindedly glanced out the window at the crowded avenue. So many cars, so many people—but the only thing he saw was Claire laughing as she leapt forward to embrace Nathan.
