Chapter 2

Claire's POV

"What did you say? The marriage certificate is fake? How is that possible?!"

I thought it was absurd, but the lawyer's next message made my face go deathly pale.

"Since you were referred by a friend, I'll tell you this. The Mr. Moore you mentioned is indeed legally married.

But the registration date wasn't two years ago. It was one week ago. And the spouse listed isn't Claire, it's someone named Rachel Connors."

Crash!

Those two sentences hit me like a sledgehammer. My hand holding the phone began to tremble.

For two whole years, my marriage had been nothing but a lie.

From the very beginning, Ethan had never truly married me. He had even registered his marriage with another woman just days ago.

I didn't know how much time had passed when the sound of the door lock turning snapped me out of my chaotic thoughts.

Ethan was home. Seeing me sitting on the sofa in a daze, he took off his coat, sat down beside me, and spoke.

"It's so late. Why aren't you asleep yet?"

When I didn't respond, his tone softened. "What, still upset?"

"Honey, men like novelty sometimes. You have to allow me to make mistakes."

"Mistakes?" I repeated with bitter self-mockery. "How could you be wrong?"

He was with his legal wife. How could that be wrong?

Ethan assumed I was just throwing a tantrum. He continued.

"Alright, honey. Yes, I really like Rachel right now. But I promise her presence won't affect your position. After all, you're my wife. That will never change. I promise."

I looked up at him in disbelief.

"Wife." "My position." How ironic those words sounded!

He'd been lying to me for two whole years. And even now, he was still lying!

I shook off Ethan's hand and went to sleep in the guest bedroom alone.

As I lay in bed thinking about where I should go after this relationship ended, the door opened without me noticing.

Ethan, breathing heavily, wrapped his arm around my waist. I jumped in fright.

"What are you doing?! Don't touch me!"

But no matter how hard I struggled, I couldn't escape being pinned to the bed.

I was nearly exhausted when I saw something in the trash can by the bed. A used condom!

We had never stayed in this guest room. The only possibility was that Ethan had used it with someone else.

I felt all the blood in my body rush to my head. Rage gave me the strength to break free from his grip.

"Get off me!"

Ethan seemed surprised when I pushed him away, as if he hadn't expected such a strong reaction.

His brow furrowed, and a flash of impatience crossed his eyes.

"What's wrong with you now? Stop making a scene."

My eyes turned red, and my voice cracked with emotion.

"I've been with you since I was seventeen, Ethan. You didn't just betray me. You brought her into our home. How can you be so disgusting?"

Ethan paused, then actually sneered and pointed at himself. "Claire, you're calling me disgusting?"

He looked down at me and spoke words that stabbed into my heart like knives.

"You think you're not disgusting?"

"When I was in a coma, you climbed into another man's bed and stayed there for a year. Claire, what right do you have to call me disgusting?"

As he spoke, he pressed my face into the mattress as if venting his anger, so hard that my vision went black.

"Don't move."

His voice was low and hoarse, laced with impatience. The moment he finished speaking, he roughly tore open my nightgown and thrust himself inside me.

I had no strength left to struggle. I could only close my eyes and endure this prolonged assault, letting tears slide down from the corners of my eyes.

After several muffled grunts from the man, the obscene sounds stopped along with his violent movements.

After releasing, Ethan let out a long breath. Looking down at me curled up on the bed, he seemed to soften a bit.

"Honey, you were married to another man for a year, so I'm just playing around for a year too. That's fair, isn't it? After a year, I'll come back to the family. We'll live well together after that."

He pulled out and left to wash up, leaving me lying on the bed with dead eyes, the parts of my body he'd treated roughly aching faintly. But nothing compared to the pain in my chest.

I stared toward the doorway and forced my lips into a bitter smile.

"But Ethan, there can never be an 'after' for us anymore."

I got up and called the hospital director. "The overseas training program. If I agree to participate now, is it too late?"

I received an affirmative answer from the other end.

"Good. I'll be ready to leave in one week."