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Evander’s POV

The night felt agonizingly long as I stood outside Eliam’s room, waiting for Claire to erge. My heart clenched with every passing mont, the fear of her leaving gnawing at my chest. The thought of her slipping away again was unbearable.

I stayed rooted to the spot, refusing to leave, even as the mansion grew quieter with the deep hours of the night.

Ti slipped by until a faint golden light began creeping through the glass walls, bathing the corridor in its warm glow. I blinked as I realized that morning had arrived.

I dragged a weary hand down my face and muttered to myself, breaking the stillness. I turned toward the guest room next to Eliam’s, quickly stepping inside to change. My movents were rushed, almost frantic, as if hurrying would prevent her from vanishing.

Pulling on a fresh shirt, I didn’t bother checking the mirror before heading back. My feet moved instinctively to the spot I had stood all night; my heart pounded in anticipation.

Just as I resud my post, the door to Eliam’s room creaked open. My breath hitched, and there she was.

Claire stepped out, her expression tired and distant, as though she had been in deep thoughts the whole night. Her clothes were the sa as yesterday’s— she hadn’t even changed before sleeping. It was obvious she had spent the night tangled in her own turmoil.

A pang of guilt twisted in my chest. I wished I could ease her burdens, but I knew better than anyone how little I could offer in that regard. For now, all I could do was stand there, watching her, hoping she wouldn’t walk away from again.

"Good morning," I greeted her, my voice softer than usual, hoping to bridge the unspoken distance between us. Claire gave a polite nod, murmured a brief reply, and exchanged a few words with , but her deanor was distant. After a mont, I could only manage to inform her that breakfast was ready.

I tried to prolong the conversation to find what she had in her mind, but no matter what I said, it felt like she was avoiding . Her quick glances and the tension in her posture made it clear she wasn’t ready to talk. Was she upset? Angry? I couldn’t pinpoint what I had done to deserve her coldness.

The thought nagged at ! Was it because of how I forced myself on her yesterday? I felt instant regret that clawed at , a reminder of my mistakes. Maybe she didn’t even want to look at now.

Claire didn’t wait for as she headed straight to the dining area; her pace was fast as if she were escaping . I stood there, rooted in place, watching her retreating figure with a sinking heart. I wanted to follow her, to make things right sohow, but sothing held back.

I turned my focus instead to Eliam. He was still in his room, and as much as I wanted to resolve things with Claire, I couldn’t ignore my boy. He had been through a lot all this ti and I didn’t wish to avoid him.

To my relief, Eliam was fast asleep, his tiny form nestled under the covers. His lips curved into a sweet smile, one I hadn’t seen in a long ti. It filled with an unexpected warmth. It reminded that despite everything, there was still so light left in both of our lives.

I stood there for a mont, watching him breathe softly, his peaceful expression easing my uneaseness. At least Eliam seed happy—for now, that was enough to give strength.

I looked at him for a little longer and then went to Claire. I found her deep in her thoughts. I went to her and asked what she was thinking about.

But her words hit like a bolt of lightning.

"This is the sa place where I waited so many mornings and nights for you to join ... so I could get sothing to eat."

What did she just say? My heart clenched painfully as her voice echoed in my mind. My chest tightened, and I could feel the blood draining from my face.

"Excuse ?" My voice ca out sharper than I intended, but I couldn’t hide my disbelief. She turned slightly, her face tinged with regret, as if she hadn’t ant to let that slip.

"I... Please, just ignore what I said," she mumbled and turned to leave. But how could I? How could I let this go?

Before she could take another step, I reached out and grabbed her hand, stopping her in her tracks. "Claire," I said, my voice soft but trembling with urgency. "Tell . Why did you say that? Did you not get to eat here?"

She froze under my touch, and I could see the hesitation in her eyes. My hands instinctively moved to her shoulders, holding her gently yet firmly. I couldn’t let her run away from this, from —not now when I needed so important yet painful answers from her.

Her eyes avoided mine, and it was like a knife twisting in my chest. "Evander, it’s not important," she muttered, trying to dismiss it and brush it under the rug like it didn’t matter.

But it mattered to . It mattered more than anything.

"It is important!" My voice cracked, filled with frustration and an ache I couldn’t describe. "It’s important for if it’s not for you! Did soone stop you from eating in your own ho? Who was it? Tell the truth."

Her silence was deafening.

I could see her struggling, her lips pressed tightly together as if holding back words too painful to say. And then, in her eyes, I saw it— the flicker of mories she didn’t want to relive.

The maids. Gloria. The empty plates. Her small figure was sitting at this very table, waiting for sothing to fill her aching stomach.

She didn’t need to tell . I could imagine all those things on my own now!

The realization crushed . My Claire—my wife—was starving in her own ho, the ho I was supposed to provide, the ho I thought would shelter her.

I felt a wave of strong guilt; it almost brought to my knees. How had I been so blind? How had I not seen this? Every mont of coldness I had shown her, every ti I had neglected her, it all ca rushing back to .

"Claire," I whispered, my voice barely audible now. My hands trembled on her shoulders as I struggled to contain the storm inside . "You should never have had to go through that. Never. You don’t deserve this!"

Her silence was answer enough, and I hated it— hated myself for not protecting her when she needed most.

I wanted to scream at the world, at everyone who had dared to hurt her, but mostly, I wanted to scream at myself. Because the one person who was supposed to shield her had unknowingly let her break.

"I... Now that I see you, I understand why you don’t want in your life," I said in a low and strained tone as I was barely able to contain the turmoil inside . My chest felt heavy, and each of my words clawed its way out. "It’s... it’s alright if you don’t want to be with . I... will set you free after everything ends here."

As the words left my mouth, they felt like shards cutting into . I hated saying them, but I knew I owed her this much. She deserved freedom from the pain I had caused, even if it ant letting her go.

Yet, deep down, I was being selfish. A part of didn’t want to let her go. I wanted to keep her here to fix what I had broken. But how could I ask her to stay when I was the reason for so much of her suffering?

She had endured things no one should ever endure— things that had happened right under my watch. I had failed her, not only as a husband but as a human being.

Gloria’s cruelty. The maid’s bossing her around. The coldness of this house, a place ant to shelter her from the evils of the world, had instead beco her prison. And I, the man who was supposed to protect her, had been blind to it all.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as guilt gnawed at . How could I even begin to make ands? How could I ask for her forgiveness when I couldn’t forgive myself?

But no matter how much I loathed myself, the truth remained the sa. Claire deserved better— better than this house, better than this life, better than .

"What... What did you just say?" Claire’s cracked tone broke through the fog of my thoughts, snapping back to reality. Her voice trembled as her words were filled with disbelief and sothing I couldn’t quite place.

I turned to her, my heart clenching at the sight of her. Her lips were shivering, her eyes wide and filled with a mix of confusion and hurt. "Did you just say that you would set free?" She asked, her voice wavering as though she feared hearing the answer.

I opened my mouth, but no words ca out. It was as if her gaze had stolen my voice. I could see clearly that there was so much she wanted to say, just like

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