Chapter 11

“You can drop me off here. My mother is waiting upstairs.” Clara Walton was never one to mince words. She said it and fully intended to leave immediately. Ethan Blackwood’s expression turned cold. His voice dropped several degrees. “Clara, I didn’t take you for the type to use someone and discard them immediately. How heartless.” Clara paused. Seriously? That was his take? But seeing the storm brewing on Ethan’s face, she didn’t rise to the bait. “I’m afraid of the dark. I have claustrophobia. If you’d bothered to learn even the basics about me, you’d know that people in panic don’t always act rationally.” She stated it calmly, as if reciting from a manual. Then she added, after a brief pause, “As for what happened earlier… I was just playing my part as Mrs. Blackwood. That’s all.” Her tone carried a hint of irony. “I had to push Fiona a little. Wasn’t that the plan? If we’re pretending, why not commit fully? Otherwise, why are we still married? How else would Fiona feel compelled to return?” She laid it all out without flinching. Completely unbothered. Ethan could barely breathe from the force of her words. She remained perfectly composed, and that cool detachment made him feel sick inside. With a cold laugh, Ethan said, “Wow. You’ve really outdone yourself, Clara.” “Thanks, hubby.” Clara’s voice was playfully sweet, utterly unfazed. “So… may I go in now?” “Get lost,” Ethan snapped. Clara didn’t hesitate for a second. She turned and walked straight down the hall toward the hospital room. Ethan stood rigidly, his eyes fixed on Clara’s retreating figure until the door closed behind her and she vanished from sight. Then he turned and left. All the heat between them earlier? It had been one-sided. Only Ethan had taken it seriously. What a joke. … That night, at a private club in River City. Graham Anderson glanced at Ethan, his tone half-teasing. “Weren’t you with Clara? What happened? Got kicked out? So now you’re here drinking with me?” Ethan ignored him, downing one drink after another as if money were nothing. Graham clicked his tongue and circled the table to sit beside him. Ethan shot him a sidelong glance. “You sure about this? Fiona’s back. All it’d take is a little effort on your part, and she’d be with you in a heartbeat,” Graham said, clearly unimpressed. “But now? You’re not divorcing Clara either? What, trying to play them against each other?” Ethan didn’t respond. He didn’t deny it either. Just took another sip. Graham finally sat across from him, locking eyes. “Ethan, I know you better than anyone. When you want something, nothing gets in your way. But right now? You’re all over the place.” “I’m hesitating?” Ethan suddenly spoke up. “Between Fiona and Clara? Absolutely.” Graham let out a dry chuckle. “Don’t tell me you’ve actually developed feelings for Clara?” “Not a chance.” Ethan dismissed it without a second thought. Fall for Clara? If it were going to happen, it would have happened long ago. Yet… he couldn’t deny that lately, she’d been occupying his thoughts far too often. Like a ghost he couldn’t shake. Graham clearly didn’t buy his denial. “Fiona called me.” Meaning: He knew what had happened. Ethan fell silent again, though his drinking slowed. He simply twirled the glass between his fingers. The crimson liquid inside seemed particularly glaring. Graham Anderson recalled Fiona Barrington’s hesitant tone earlier. It wasn’t hard to guess—she’d been complaining. But when it came to relationship drama, Graham knew better than to get involved. All he could do was play along. Now, seeing Ethan’s reaction, a teasing grin tugged at Graham’s lips. “Ethan, care to make a bet?” His tone was laced with amusement. Ethan glanced over. “I bet you’ve developed feelings for Clara Walton,” Graham stated bluntly. “If I win, that land in South River City is mine. If I lose, I’ll hand over my European distribution rights. Fair?” The stakes were high—easily worth billions. Ethan scoffed. “Then you’ve already lost.” “Alright, we’ll see.” Graham maintained his half-smirk. Ethan didn’t bother replying. He grabbed his jacket—Lucy Hampton was already waiting downstairs. Without another word, he left. Graham watched him go, amusement lingering in his gaze. He finished his drink, then strolled out at his own pace. … Days passed in a blur. Since their argument, Clara and Ethan hadn’t seen each other. Clara didn’t have the time or energy to think about him anyway—her focus was entirely on her mother, Linda Walton. Thankfully, Linda’s condition had stabilized, and the surgery remained scheduled as planned. That gave Clara a bit of breathing room. “Thank you in advance for Monday’s surgery, Dr. Griffith,” she said politely. Nathaniel Griffith responded with a casual “Yeah,” standing with one hand tucked in his coat pocket. “You’re really going to talk to me like I’m a stranger?” He looked down at her, raising an eyebrow. Clara bit her lip before replying, “Then… senior?” Nathaniel chuckled, somewhat pleased with the answer. He wasn’t originally from River City—his roots were in the capital. But his grandmother lived here, so he’d spent six months in the city as a teenager, attending the same school as Clara. She was in her first year of middle school; he, a late transfer into the second year of high school. Nathaniel remembered her because one day, she arrived late, climbing over the wall to avoid being caught. He’d witnessed the whole thing, saw her clasp her hands in a mock apology before darting away. He’d smirked silently. After that, he began running into her more often. Somehow, they’d grown familiar. They stayed in touch through WhatsApp for a while, until he left for medical school at Johns Hopkins. As his schedule grew busier, their messages dwindled, then stopped altogether. And now, fate had brought them back together—with him as the lead surgeon for her mother at Aurelux. Funny how life worked. Without holding back, Nathaniel tapped Clara lightly on the forehead. “You really don’t pick ’em well.” Clara blinked. “What?” “Someone like Ethan? Totally wrong for you.” Nathaniel’s tone was casual. Clara played along, nodding as if in agreement. “Then once I’m divorced, can you introduce me to someone better?” “Dream on.” He flicked her cheek with a chuckle. Clara was about to respond when someone came to fetch Nathaniel. He immediately straightened up, as if nothing had just happened between them. Clara gave a small nod as he walked away. Just then, her phone rang. She looked down at the caller ID, her eyes dimming slightly. So… Fiona finally couldn’t sit still and had called her first?