Chapter 5
Claire had no idea how long she’d been unconscious before she started to regain awareness.
Her throat felt like sandpaper, and her stomach felt like invisible hands were twisting and tearing at it from the inside.
She couldn’t make a sound, couldn’t even cry.
Somewhere nearby, she heard a familiar voice, low and furious: “…she just had a miscarriage, she’s got multiple broken ribs And injuries all over her body, and you people let her have an allergic reaction? If we’d been even a few minutes later, she
would’ve died!”
She recognized that voice.
Dr. Mitchell.
Hard to imagine someone so calm and composed losing it like that.
Was he angry… because of her?
Claire had to laugh at herself for being so narcissistic.
Dr. Mitchell barely knew her. He was probably just doing his job–you know, that whole “do no harm” thing doctors were supposed to be about.
Tiffany was trembling from being yelled at: “Mr. Ethan, I had no idea Mrs. Claire was allergic to seafood! I just thought it would be nutritious for her, help her get better faster…”
“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t be scared.”
“I’m so stupid… I think I hurt Mrs. Claire again.”
“It’s fine. Claire won’t hold it against you.”
Hearing their words, Claire suddenly remembered the last time she’d had an allergic reaction to seafood.
It was the first time Ethan had taken her to a business dinner.
During the meal, one of his clients had specifically sent over a king crab: “Mrs. Thompson, I had this flown in from Australia just for tonight–you’ve got to at least try it!”
Claire was young back then, too shy to refuse. She forced herself to take a few bites.
But even that tiny amount triggered a reaction–her throat swelled up and she couldn’t breathe.
Ethan had carried her to the hospital, screaming at everyone: “Who the hell made her eat seafood? If anything happens to Claire, I’ll kill every last one of you!”
That time, Ethan stayed by her side for three straight days without sleeping.
When she woke up, he looked completely wrecked.
He’d held her so tight it felt like he was trying to absorb her into his body: “Claire, I failed to protect you. I swear, I’m going to make every single one of those bastards pay for this.”
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Chapter 5
She found out later that Ethan had his men throw them into the ocean, pull them out just before they drowned, then do it all over again. For seven straight days.
But Ethan…
I never imagined that the second time I’d eat seafood in my life, it would be because you forced me to.
When Dr. Mitchell came in and saw that Claire was awake, he gave her a quick warning: “We just pumped your stomach and your throat is still swollen. Don’t try to talk for now.”
But Claire was looking at Ethan, holding out her hand again.
Ethan understood and dropped a pearl into her palm: “Well, you seem fine if you’re still asking me for stuff.”
Claire tucked the pearl away and turned her face to the wall, refusing to look at him anymore.
“Claire, get some rest. I’m taking Tiffany home–I’ll come see you tomorrow.”
Claire couldn’t speak, so she just mouthed the word: “Pearls.”
Ethan simply said: “You’ll get them.”
He left with Tiffany.
But Dr. Mitchell stayed behind. He pulled down his mask and stood beside her bed: “Is there anything I can do for you?”
Claire shook her head at first.
Then, after thinking for a moment, she nodded.
She mouthed the words: “I want to leave.”
Dr. Mitchell understood what she meant–she didn’t just want to leave the hospital or the house.
She wanted to leave permanently, to cut all ties with Ethan forever.
He asked: “When do you want to go?”
She still hadn’t gotten all of her mother’s pearls back, and she couldn’t trust Ethan anymore. She had to go home herself to get
them.
Plus her body needed a few more days to recover.
She mouthed: “After one week.”
Dr. Mitchell nodded: “Okay. I’ll help you.”
Claire stayed in the hospital for three days on IV drips. On the third evening, Ethan finally came to take her home.
When she walked through the front door, she discovered the house was being renovated.
“Tiffany doesn’t like the decor,” Ethan explained. “So I’m having them tear it all out and redo it.”
This house was their wedding home. Claire had personally designed every detail of the interior.
Her art studio on the first floor, filled with all her supplies and years of carefully crafted paintings, had been cleared out like
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Two Chances, One Bullet: How His “Next Life” Promise Failed
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Chapter 5
garbage.
“Tiffany’s parents will visit sometimes, so we’re clearing this room for them.”
She’d even saved a special nursery, designed for their future baby.
But now the construction worker was asking: “Mr. Thompson, you sure you want this room set up for a dog?”
Ethan nodded: “Tiffany has this golden retriever back home called Buddy. She misses him while she’s working in the city, so we’re bringing him here.”
Even the rose garden Ethan had personally planted for Claire in front of the house was completely destroyed.
Roses scattered everywhere, petals crushed into the dirt.
Because Tiffany had said: “Buddy might get scratched by the thorns when he runs around.”
Claire wasn’t really surprised. She was almost numb to it all by now.
Let him tear apart whatever he wanted–she didn’t care anymore.
But they’d ripped up all the floors too. She just wanted to know one thing: Had he found and collected all of her mother’s scattered pearls?
“Ethan,” she croaked, her voice still hoarse, “my mother’s necklace had seventy–two pearls. You’ve only given me twelve.
Where are the rest?”
Ethan shrugged: “We ripped up all the floors. They’re gone.”
“You promised you’d give them back to me!”
“It’s just sixty pearls–why are you screaming?” Ethan said dismissively. “I looked up that necklace. It’s not an antique, and the pearls aren’t even that valuable. I’ll transfer you three hundred grand–go buy yourself a few new ones.”
Claire didn’t bother arguing with him. She turned to the construction worker: “Where did you dump the old flooring?”
The worker scratched his head: “All that debris went to the community waste center.”
Claire headed straight for the door.
“You’re still sick–where the hell are you going?” Ethan called after her.
Claire didn’t look back: “To find my pearls.”
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