chapter 2

Daniel was about to lunge at Ethan, but I stopped him.

"We're divorced already, Mr. Foster. Why say this now?

"None of it matters anymore."

I felt drained. After saying that, I just wanted to leave with Daniel—but Ethan stepped right in front of me.

My words clearly pissed him off. He looked like he couldn't wait to twist the knife. "Doesn't matter? Claire, did you forget how you used to act like you'd die without me?

"Every time I had a rumor back then, you lost your mind—yelling, hitting, threatening me, dragging the elders in to pressure me. But divorce? You never agreed. And now you're flaunting that doctor in my face, like you're playing hard to get.

"Here's some advice—since we're divorced, cut it off already. If someone like you keeps clinging to me, it's nothing but a headache."

My fingers turned white from clenching, every beat of my heart stabbing like needles.

He glared at me with pure disgust. Meeting his eyes, I tried to explain, "Dr. Cooper and I went to the same school. This isn't some game—it was just a coincidence. I know you hate me. I'm sorry for the mess I caused before. If you don't believe me, I'll swear on it."

Afraid he still wouldn't buy it, I made it clear, word by word, "If I ever chase you again, may I never rest in peace! "

But my words didn't calm him down.

He just felt like he'd punched a pillow, especially after hearing my vicious vow, seeing my pale face—something twisted in Ethan's chest, a panic he couldn't name.

Ethan opened his mouth to snap back, but Olivia tugged at his sleeve. "Ethan, it's almost time. Don't waste it on someone who doesn't matter.

"My dad’s waiting to discuss the listing deal."

Ethan nodded.

Then wrapped his arm around Olivia, flaunting it as they brushed past me.

As they disappeared around the corner, Daniel spoke, maybe trying to comfort me, "I think... he still cares about you, even if he won't admit it."

I didn't answer. My eyes stung, but I forced a smile.

I ignored his words and said instead, "Come on. Help me cash this check. Then I'm buying myself a huge grave!"

In the cemetery, the salesman sweet-talked people just to hit his sales target, "Miss, you're so thoughtful. Even if the person's gone, I'm sure they'll feel your love."

I let out a bitter laugh. "Not dead yet. This one is for me.

"I don't have much time left. If I'm gone in a few days, make sure my headstone looks decent, alright?"

The salesman froze, eyes wide.

Then he stammered out apologies. When he looked back at me, his eyes brimmed with pity.

I shook my head, not feeling offended.

But I couldn't help wondering—if Ethan ever heard I was dead, what would he feel? At least he wouldn't be standing at the cemetery gate right now, scowling, telling me to go back to the Foster mansion to see grandma.

I asked Daniel to handle the rest of the paperwork, then got into Ethan's car.

He shot me a look, his tone sharp. "Why'd you bring him to the cemetery?"

"Shopping for my grave," I replied flatly.