Chapter 2

Claire didn't wake up until the noon, still groggy from jet lag.

She sat cross-legged on the carpet, staring blankly at the floor when her phone buzzed.

"Elena Thompson" lit up on the screen.

Claire hesitated for a moment before answering.

Elena's voice was overly bright. "Hey Claire! How does it feel to be back home?"

Claire leaned back slightly. "So far, so good."

"Glad to hear it." Elena let out a dry chuckle, then quickly shifted tone. "Has Nelson stopped by yet? You two met up, right?"

Claire lowered her gaze. "Yeah, we met."

"That's great! You're a couple after all. It's been three years. Time you two caught up. Nelson's just been super busy, that's all."

"I came back to finalize the divorce," Claire said evenly. "It's the only reason I'm here."

Silence.

Then came Elena's surprised voice. "Claire… are you really sure about this?"

"I'm sure. Isn't that why you called?"

Elena faltered, thrown by her bluntness. Before she could recover, Claire spoke again, her tone cool and final. "If that's all, I'll hang up.

"Wait." Elena quickly called out, "Since you're back, you have to come to Serena's birthday party tonight."

Claire raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything.

Elena pressed on, "Claire, you're still Mrs. Cooper in name, and Serena's older sister. Everyone coming tonight is someone important. If you're a no-show, what kind of message does that send about our family?"

She paused, voice turning sharp despite the forced politeness.

"Besides, it's a good chance for you to see how things are done in proper society."

Claire let out a soft laugh—it wasn't loud, but it was enough to make Elena uncomfortable on the other end.

"You're right," she said slowly. "I'm really not cut out for the spotlight. Just an adopted daughter who almost died overseas. Can't exactly compare with the real Thompson heiress, can I?"

Elena choked on her words.

"But since you're inviting me so 'sincerely,' I'll be there on time."

Before Elena could say another word, Claire ended the call.

The screen went dark in her hand.

She looked outside the window, phone loosely held.

At some point, a couple of short honks came from outside the villa.

Claire glanced at the wall clock.

4:55 p.m.—five minutes earlier than Nelson had said yesterday.

She didn't move.

The phone buzzed again. Claire lazily picked up.

"Come down," Nelson's voice came over.

"On my way," Claire replied, but didn't actually move.

Instead, she walked into the closet and stood in front of the full-length mirror.

White cotton shirt. Faded jeans. Worn canvas sneakers.

Hair tied back, no makeup, with light shadows under her eyes from a lack of sleep.

Perfect. Just the look she was going for.

The phone rang again—it was Nelson.

Claire took her time. She stepped out of the bedroom, crossed the living room, and opened the front door.

A black Cooper idled in the driveway.

Nelson leaned against the driver's side door, phone in hand, eyes fixed on the screen.

At the sound of the door opening, he looked up.

Claire pretended not to notice the flicker of annoyance in his eyes.

She even offered a mild, apologetic smile. "Sorry, got caught up looking for something."

Nelson didn't respond. He just opened the door and slid back into the driver's seat.

Claire walked over to the backseat, reaching for the door.

Just as she was about to get in, Nelson's crisp voice came from the front. "Sit in front."

She froze for half a second, then calmly replied, "There's more room in the back."

With that, she got in and closed the door behind her.

Nelson frowned and looked at her through the rearview mirror.

She was turned toward the window, her profile quiet and detached.

Her laid-back outfit looked completely out of place.

"You really plan to show up to the dinner dressed like that?" he finally said, voice tight and edged with frustration.

Claire glanced down at herself like she just now realized. "What's wrong with it? It's just a family thing—doesn't need to be so formal, does it?"

"Claire, it's not just your family attending tonight. You're still my wife, remember?"

"So?" she shot back casually.

That distant, dismissive attitude only ticked Nelson off more.

He grabbed a gift box from the passenger seat and shoved it into her arms.

"Change into this," he ordered. "Don't make me say it again."

The box was heavy, wrapped beautifully.

The lid had a sleek gold-stamped logo—Sprince.

Known for its couture dresses, Sprince was a name every socialite chased.

Claire looked up. "Isn't this for Serena? Seems a little much for me."

Nelson's face darkened. "It's not Serena's. It's a brand-new design from their latest line. No one's worn it yet."

"Claire, until we're officially divorced, you still represent the Cooper family."

"I don't want you showing up like that and embarrassing us."

He gave her a hard once-over. "You've got twenty minutes. Get dressed."

Claire studied his tense profile as the same, weary resignation settled over her. Nothing had changed in three years. He never asked what she wanted. Never cared what she liked.

She'd tried so hard to earn his approval once, and now it all felt like a joke.

What she thought never mattered to him—never did.

She sat quietly for a few beats, then slowly pushed open the door.

"Fine," she said simply.

Holding the box, she left without a backward glance and headed back into the villa.

Nelson sat in the car, tugging at his collar, clearly irritated.

Claire's shift in attitude was throwing him off, and he didn't like it one bit.