Failed Escape

Claire POV

These days, I ate, drank, and played without a care.

No longer did I worry about Aaron's daily routines or tiptoe around his business affairs.

Life felt unburdened, almost blissfully carefree.

Friends would occasionally send me updates about Vivian, but I merely smiled and let them slide.

Back then, I would have tracked her every social media post, scrolled through every photo, hunting for the slightest trace of her and Aaron.

I would then engineer "chance encounters," desperate for him to notice how much I cared.

But now, all of that seemed utterly meaningless.

The messages from friends were glanced at, and quickly forgotten.

I had almost erased their existence from my mind.

Deep inside, I simply didn't care anymore.

A few days from now, I would leave this city entirely.

Thinking of it made my chest feel light, unburdened.

So when Aaron called, a rare thing these days, I answered with a cheerful voice.

"Claire?" There was a trace of surprise in his voice. "You... sound happy."

I tilted my head. "Is that a problem?"

"You used to cry all the time after leaving me... called me twenty, thirty times a day..."

I let out an ironic laugh. "Yes, you know... that was the old me."

There was a pause, then he said, "It's been a while since I've seen you. I've booked Celestia on the 19th."

"I'm not going," I cut him off, sharp and decisive.

But today, he seemed unusually patient.

"Claire," his voice softened, almost pleading, "the 19th is our anniversary. Just have dinner with me, please."

"Anniversary?" I said lightly. "I've married and divorced so many times, I've long since stopped remembering which day it was."

There was a pause on the line.

"The divorce... that was my fault." His voice had dropped, deepened.

"You know... Vivian is a public figure. I can't risk her reputation."

So, I was always expected to bear it all.

To be the unlucky one.

The target of her fans' online rage every time she held a press conference.

Memories pricked at me like tiny needles, sharp and persistent.

My voice cooled.

"You don't need to explain any of this. I'm not coming to dinner."

I didn't want to see him.

"Wait—" His tone turned urgent. "Don't you remember? Five years ago, at Celestia, was the very first time we met..."

My fingers trembled slightly.

Five years ago, I had been celebrating a friend's birthday at Celestia.

One push from my friend sent me sprawling into the arms of a man at the neighboring table.

In that moment, his gaze cut like a blade, a dangerous heat wrapping around me.

But just as quickly, a soft, almost imperceptible tenderness eased the tension.

At the time, Aaron had just taken the reins of the Moretti empire, every muscle in his body taut, every movement calculated, ready for any threat that might come his way.

And there I was, a plastic cake knife trembling in my hand, pressed—purely by accident—against his chest.

Flustered, my cheeks burned crimson.

I scrambled to wipe the cream off his bespoke suit, apologizing over and over.

And in the chaos of my fumbling, a subtle, fleeting smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, one I almost missed.

That single moment of tenderness etched him into my memory.

And later, I let myself fall for him.

"Claire... promise me, will you? I want to see you."

Aaron's voice pulled me back to the present, a warm flutter rising in my chest.

Time had passed so fast. Five years... I had loved him all that time.

Alright. Let everything return to its starting point.

Where it began, it should end.

I whispered, "Fine. See you then."

Before I could hang up, a soft, trembling voice came through the line.

"Aaron... I'm not feeling so good..."

"Aaron... don't..."

And then, a flirtatious undertone.

Disgusted, I tossed the phone aside.

How could he... entangled with another woman one moment, yet telling me he wanted to see me the next?

Then, a news alert flashed across my screen.

Vivian, drunk at a bar, being carried into a hotel by Aaron.

I laughed, though a bitter ache stirred in my chest.

I had thought I'd never feel pain for him again...

Forget it.

Let Celestia be the end of our story.