Chapter 21%
Third Person’s POV
“Norris,” Clarissa said, her voice steady, “once is enough for a mistake like this.”
“The damage you and Gabrielle did to me… time won’t heal that. If all of this–saving me, this whole spectacle–was just to make a show out of it, I would’ve rather stayed in the hospital bed. This kind of emotional blackmail? It’s shameless.“}
Her words hit Norris like a punch to the gut. He slowly stood, but Clarissa wasn’t done.
“I don’t want your love. And I don’t want to give you mine. Do I really have to say it again?” She looked him straight in the eyes. “I don’t love you anymore.”
Panic flared in Norris’s face. His voice trembled as he rushed to speak.
“If you didn’t love me… why did you ask someone to pretend to be your husband just to make me jealous? If you didn’t love me… why did it hurt you when I got injured?“}
Clarissa stared at him, completely unmoved. She didn’t even bother responding, her eyes were as cold as ice.
Desperate, Norris grabbed her hand. “You’re still mad at me, right? That’s okay. I’ll change–I am changing. Just don’t say those words again. Please, Clarissa, I’m begging you.“>
She yanked her hand free and turned to leave without a word.&
People tried to block her path, but her expression darkened.
“Move.”
She had known this would happen. If she could go back in time, she’d never have kept their marriage a secret. It had brought her nothing but trouble.
The man who had carried her out of the family dinner that day was Daryll. •
She never imagined the first familiar face she’d run into in the Netherlands would be his.
He had seen her at her lowest, so she’d always been a little self–conscious around him after that. She even avoided him a few times out of embarrassment. But Daryll never left. He found the best doctor to treat her legs, stayed by her side, and little by little, her guard began to
fall.
And when it did, she realized that Daryll was a really good man.§
He was a few years older than her, cold on the outside but gentle where it mattered. He took care of her in ways no one else ever had. She didn’t even notice when his care turned into affection, when he began to quietly pursue her. There were no tangled histories between them, no messy emotions.
Still, she hadn’t said yes to him–not at first. She didn’t want to be a burden to anyone, not with her disability. Norris had already made her afraid of love, afraid to believe in it again.§
But this was different.
Daryll didn’t just say sweet things, he followed through. Even her aunt, who rarely approved of anyone, liked him.§
So when her legs finally healed, she turned to Daryll and asked him to marry her.”
They kept their marriage quiet as Daryll’s background was complicated, and staying low–profile felt like the safest choice.
But she hadn’t expected that decision to come back and bite her like this.
When she got home that night, Daryll was already waiting by the door. He wore a crooked smile, as if amused but not quite happy.
Clarissa’s heart sank. Of course he’d heard about what happened earlier.
She opened her mouth to distract him with some harmless small talk, but before she could say a word, Daryll had already pulled her into a tight hug. He buried his face in her neck and murmured, “Look at you, all grown up. A celebrity now, huh? What’s next, tossing aside your good old husband?”
Clarissa couldn’t help but laugh. “What are you talking about? You’re so handsome. How could I possibly replace you?”
Daryll smirked. “So… should I prepare to share my wife with that guy, then?“}
His teasing melted away the guilt that had been weighing on her chest. She kissed him gently in return, her way of saying not talk about it
anymore.
“So,‘ she asked, changing the subject, “how come you’re home so early?”
Daryll ruffled her hair. “The auction’s tomorrow. That painting you’ve been dying to get? It’s finally showing up. I couldn’t wait to tell you. Want to come with me?”
Clarissa’s eyes lit up. She’d been chasing that painting for years, and the unpopular artist of it only had two pieces in existence. One of them had found its way to her by sheer luck when she was younger. The second had never resurfaced until now.
She arrived at the auction house a little later than she’d hoped but just in time to see that painting on display.
The bidding had just begun. The starting price wasn’t too high. She raised her paddle, ready to bid, but then someone beat her to it.
“Thirty thousand.”
