Chapter 3
Claire found the whole thing absolutely hilarious.
He was the one who’d prostrated himself on sacred mountains, so devout, so desperate to keep her safe and healthy.
And he was also the one who’d pushed her down the stairs, breaking her ribs and killing their baby.
What kind of sick joke was that?
“Ethan, since you’re so crazy about her, let’s just get divorced. I’ll step aside and you two can live happily ever after.”
Ethan chuckled softly and pressed a kiss to her forehead: “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m just having some fun with her. She’s this sweet, naive little thing–it’s entertaining. Once I get bored, we’ll go back to our normal life together. Till death do us part and
all that.”
“Do you hear yourself right now? What the hell do you think I am?”
“Look, monogamy goes against basic human nature anyway,” Ethan said matter–of–factually. “Decades with the same person? Even if you love them, you’re gonna get bored eventually. Having someone new around to spice things up isn’t a big deal, as long as we’re the ones who end up together in the end. Don’t overthink it.”
Claire let out a bitter laugh: “So if I went out and found someone to ‘spice things up‘ with, you’d be totally cool with that?”
Ethan considered this for a moment, then smiled: “You won’t.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Because you’re not capable of it.”
After for a while, Ethan fell asleep.
Claire quietly got up and retrieved two charms from the safe, lighting them with a cigarette lighter.
One for him pushing her down the stairs to keep Tiffany around–murdering their unborn child with his own hands.
The other for him using her mother’s pearls to blackmail her into baking cookies while she could barely stand.
She watched both charms turn to ash, then opened the window and let the night breeze scatter the remains.
Ethan stirred awake, mumbling groggily: “Claire? What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” she said quietly. “Couldn’t sleep. Just getting some fresh air.”
The next morning, Ethan dropped Claire back off at the hospital.
Her attending physician was a young, good–looking doctor who frowned as he reviewed her chart: “Ms.Thompson, do you want me to call the police?”
Claire shook her head.
Her mother’s pearls were still in Ethan’s hands. Calling the cops would be mutually assured destruction–she couldn’t risk it.
“Alright then. Just focus on getting better. If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask.”
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Two Chances, One Bullet: How His “Next Life” Promise Failed
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“Actually, there is one thing.”
The young doctor looked at her expectantly: “What’s that?”
“Can I get your number?”
The young doctor said: “I have a work number if you want to connect me.”
“I meant your personal number.”
Claire knew she was being forward.
She was fully prepared to get shot down.
A guy this young, handsome, and successful probably had women asking for his number all the time.
She just wanted to test whether she was really as pathetic as Ethan claimed–too chicken to even “spice things up.”
“Sorry, just… forget I said anything.” She was awkward.
The doctor looked at her for a moment, then quietly left without a word.
After he was gone, Claire heard one of the nurses call him “Dr. Mitchell.”
Claire asked the nurse about him. “Dr. Mitchell is this amazing talent our director poached from overseast He’s already got his MD and he’s so young–but I heard he’s only here for a three–month exchange program before he goes back abroad.”
Claire nodded, feeling kind of embarrassed.
She really was as pathetic as she thought.
But that evening, Dr. Mitchell came back to her room.
He’d clearly just gotten off work–changed into casual clothes, a crisp button–down and dress pants that made him look distinguished and elegant.
He handed Claire a small piece of paper with his number on it: “If you need help with anything, call me anytime.”
Late of that day. Ethan showed up with Tiffany in tow.
Tiffany was carrying a thermos, grinning ear to ear: “Mrs. Claire! I made you some healing soup–it’ll help you get better super
fast!”
She was wearing a yellow floral sundress today.
The neckline was cut pretty low, showing off the obvious red marks scattered across her neck and collarbone.
Her eyes were glassy, cheeks flushed pink, and she kept shooting coy, almost pouty looks at Ethan while fidgeting with her
dress.
Pretty obvious what they’d been up to.
But wait–wasn’t Tiffany supposed to be on her period?
How did they…P
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The Chairs One Butler How His Next Life” Prunus Fatind
Chapter 3
Ethan casually grabbed some tissues and wiped off his index and middle fingers before tossing them in the trash.
The white tissues were stained with bright red blood.
And sticking out of his pants pocket was a crumpled piece of fabric–definitely women’s underwear, judging by the little bow she could see.
Claire didn’t need a road–map to figure out what had happened right before they came here.
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