CLAIRE'S POV

Ethan had somehow convinced himself he was Madeline’s savior. He kept reassuring her, over and over, that he’d take care of her family and her—so long as she stayed in line and didn’t let me, his legal wife, find out.

Whenever he had free time, he’d sneak away to contact her. And after I fell asleep, he’d slip out of bed to indulge in quick, stolen moments with her.

But Ethan underestimated Madeline.

A drowning person will grab onto anything and Madeline? She was desperate.

She reached out to me first.

Madeline flooded my inbox with everything—every suggestive photo she’d taken with Ethan, leaving nothing to the imagination. There were pictures of all the luxury gifts he’d given her, screenshots of large money transfers, and candid shots of him holding flowers while waiting to pick her up after class.

It didn’t stop there. She wrote long, detailed messages about their time together like my chat inbox had become her personal diary.

I didn’t respond. Not a single word.

At first, my silence confused her. Then it started to enrage her.

[Claire, did you know? Ethan brought me to your house while you weren’t there.]

[Your bed is so soft. I wore your nightgown while being intimate with Ethan in your bed.]

[Ethan said you’re too rigid, that I’m the one who truly makes him happy.]

Still, I didn’t reply.

Then came a photo of her in an evening gown.

[Do you like it? This was supposed to be a surprise Ethan prepared for your wedding anniversary. But when I said I liked it, he gave it to me instead.]

[Tonight, I’ll be wearing this dress to his company’s annual gala.]

This morning, Ethan had told me to stay home and rest, assuring me he’d attend the gala alone. Now, it was obvious why. His concern wasn’t for me—it was for that dancer, Madeline Brooks.

I changed into formal attire and headed to the hotel hosting the gala.

When I arrived, I spotted them almost immediately. Right in the center of the dance floor, Ethan was holding Madeline in his arms as they danced.

The murmurs started before I even stepped onto the floor.

“Claire always acts so high and mighty, bragging about her ‘devoted husband.’”

“Guess she’s no better than anyone else. He even brought his mistress to the gala.”

“Ethan doesn’t hold back. Not bringing his wife to such a formal event? Bold.”

“Men—they all say they love you, but their bodies? They’ll love anyone. Only someone like Claire would believe a man’s promises.”

I stepped into the restroom, letting their mocking words wash over me. Then, taking a deep breath, I pushed open the stall door and made my way toward Ethan.

The moment I walked in, the room seemed to freeze, every pair of eyes snapping in my direction.

“Claire?” Ethan’s voice cracked as he saw me. He immediately let go of Madeline, his face pale. “Claire, I can explain! I just brought a casual companion, that’s all!”

My response was a hard slap across his face.

Pulling out my phone, I shoved it in his face, showing him the endless chat records. “Ethan, what kind of ‘companion’ ends up in your bed?”

He froze, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. No words came.

Madeline stepped forward, her face twisting into a smirk. But before she could utter a word, I slapped her too.

She stumbled back, her heel catching on the floor, and fell into a tower of champagne glasses. The sound of breaking glass echoed through the room as champagne spilled across the floor.

And then I saw it—a stream of bright red trickling from between her legs.

“Ethan! Ethan, save me!” she screamed, her voice hysterical. “Save our baby!”

Ethan froze, staring at the red stain spreading on the floor. Then, without a second thought, he shoved me aside and scooped her into his arms.

He rushed her out of the ballroom, not even looking back.

At that moment, he chose her.

He made me into a public spectacle, a joke.

But I’d already made up my mind. I didn’t care what anyone thought of me anymore.

When I got home, I started packing for my trip to Iceland.

A few days earlier, the lab had contacted me to confirm that I wasn’t backing out of the experiment. After finalizing everything, they sent me a new identity and plane tickets, just as I’d requested.

I was still Claire Watson—but my date of birth was now five years later than my real one.

CLAIRE'S POV

The period for the cryogenic experiment was scheduled to last five years.

By the time it ended, I would be five years younger than Ethan. The thought was strange as time would pass for him, but for me, it would stand still.

When Ethan finally returned home the next day, his face was pale, his expression caught up between anger and frustration.

“Claire, I didn’t think you could be this ruthless,” he spat, slamming the door behind him.

“Madeline just got pregnant, and now she’s had a miscarriage! That was my child!” His voice cracked, filled with raw emotion. “Do you even understand how long I’ve wanted to be a father?”

Instinctively, my hands moved to cover my belly, as if to shield my baby from the man in front of me. I didn’t want my child to hear the kind of person their father truly was.

“So let me get this straight,” I said, my voice calm but cold. “Your affair during our marriage, and your mistress’s pregnancy—somehow, that’s my fault?”

“Ethan,” I continued, staring him down. “You’ve known Madeline for what? A month? And you’re willing to break the vows you made to me for her?”

He rubbed his temples, groaning as if he were the one being wronged. “Claire, stop throwing those vows in my face like some kind of threat!”

“And how is this infidelity?” he added, his voice rising. “I was just looking for a little physical relief. My heart still belongs to you!”

My chest tightened as tears welled up in my eyes.

“All men are like this,” Ethan said as if it were a universal truth. “Other women can tolerate it—why can’t you?”

The tears I’d been holding back finally spilled over, and he reached out to wipe them away.

“Claire,” he said softly, his tone almost tender now. “My heart is still pure. I would never truly betray you.”

“You should be content. Don’t talk about leaving anymore—it’s exhausting for me too, you know?”

Ethan was so convinced I was bluffing, just trying to scare him.

I looked up at him and forced a smile. “Tomorrow is New Year’s Eve,” I said, my tone sweet, almost playful. “Are we still going to Iceland?”

He brightened immediately, pulling me into a hug. “Of course! I’ll book the tickets right now.” He grabbed his phone and started tapping away, already planning the trip.

“We’ll leave tomorrow,” he said, grinning. “Spend the New Year abroad. When we get back, everything will go back to normal. Just you and me.”

What he didn’t know was that I wasn’t coming back.

...

The airport was packed the next morning. Holiday travelers were rushing to catch their flights. Meanwhile, Ethan and I checked in without issue, but just as we reached the gate, his phone started buzzing relentlessly.

It was Madeline Brooks.

He hesitated but eventually picked up. I stood there, listening as he tried to calm her down.

“Madeline, I can’t talk right now,” he said in a low voice, glancing at me. But whatever she said on the other end made him tense up.

“Claire, I’m sorry,” he said, turning to me with a forced smile. “Looks like you’ll have to go on this trip alone.”

“Madeline said if I don’t see her, she’ll sue you for intentional harm. I can’t let that happen—not for your sake.”

Even now, he framed his betrayal as though it were some selfless act for my benefit.

“Ethan,” I said quietly, “if you walk away right now, you’ll never see me again.”

He chuckled, ruffling my hair like I was a child throwing a tantrum. “Don’t talk nonsense, Claire. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Without another word, he turned and walked out of the airport.

Minutes after he left, the boarding process began. Then, as the plane taxied down the runway, a deafening explosion rocked the airport. Flames erupted into the sky as the plane crashed to the ground.

It was the flight to Iceland.

...